The Sacrifice
by 2hearts1soul
Summary: Omega Stiles was about to be sacrificed to the Gods by the Druid Priests. He is rescued by Soldiers of the great Hale Empire. Stiles is no ordinary human omega, he belongs to the royal caste, may even be a son of the Sheriff, the Ruler of Beacon Hills. The same Ruler the General of the 10th legion has come to negotiate with. General Derek will know what to do about this, won't he?
1. Chapter 1

Physical sensations were the first to break through the fog in his mind.

The hardness of the tanned leather couch beneath him, the smell of the aromatic oil burning in the lamps, and the sound of the rain overhead. Then the slow realisation that there was no moisture touching his skin brought the vague notion that he was under the cover of a roof and no longer out in the open.

As he lay there, awareness came back to him through layers of consciousness. Images floated through his mind, separate yet somehow connected. One memory stayed for longer than the others. He had been held immobile whilst the thick oozing liquid had been poured down his throat. For a few seconds he could taste it again, sweetly bitter, the aftertaste of mistletoe, making him gag, but he had not been allowed to retch. His throat had been stroked and then water had been forced down. They had bound his arms and legs then to await the effects of the drug.

Only his mind flitted in and out of consciousness, his body was still, numb and heavy. Somewhere in his mind the knowledge lurked that the drug was designed to produce that effect, that it was used to keep the body still and the mind clear, so that the chosen would be fully aware when they went to meet the gods, and the priests could see into their eyes as they completed the sacrifice. It was obvious that too much had been used on him, because his mind wasn't clear, the fog shrouded his thoughts.

Voices. Hard, strange voices. He became aware of the voices. His confusion deepened because he couldn't understand what they were saying. Hard, angry, male voices making alien sounds, speaking an alien tongue. Where was the comforting lilt of his people? Fear coiled in his stomach like a restless serpent until awareness fled.

The next time he heard the voices, his brain sharpened, clicked into focus. Suddenly he knew who these strangers were. Some of the rapidly spoken words became clear. It was hard to concentrate but the words began to make sense and he could just understand that they were waiting for the Alpha General to arrive to make the decision. Before he could find out what the decision was, the drug overwhelmed him again.

In the silence, he flitted in and out of consciousness, until he felt the hands on his body, strong, determined but not ungentle. He wanted to protest when one of those hands slipped under his tunic and probed briefly between his legs but after a startled pause, it didn't linger and he couldn't focus long enough to even whimper his distress. His left shoulder was bared. Cold air skimmed his flesh raising Goosebumps and he felt his left nipple pucker in the chilly air.

Then he heard a grunt of understanding. A soothing, liquid voice different to the rest spoke in his tongue "You are safe Dear One, do not be afraid."

Then the soothing voice became harder, speaking in a tongue not his own, but the strange words were clearer than those he had heard before.

This was the voice of one of his people, not one of the Strangers. He forced herself to listen and concentrate upon his words.

"He bares the mark, the royal tattoo; he is an Omega of the Sheriff's Household. Perhaps even a son. It would not be wise to harm him"

A fierce foreign voice growled quickly in response

"You impious savage, we saved him from your barbaric priests, we will do what we ..." The harsh voice was interrupted before he could finish.

"Enough Jackson" Two words cut through the seething anger with a power which electrified the very air. Elemental, masculine Alpha power as if derived from the very gods themselves, a power which invaded the Omega's weakened and defenceless body. It shivered through him, caressing his nerve endings as he lay there unable to move. The vibrant, dark voice spoke softly but held the attention of those present as nothing else had.

"Alpha General, we did not realise you had returned" the once fierce voice stuttered like an unsure youth in front of his stern father.

"Is that something a good soldier should admit Whittemore?" the General asked on a weary sigh, then demanded implacably "Report"

Before the soldier could open his mouth, the General held up his hand to stay his words. In the obedient silence, he turned to study the swarthy Mage.

"Deaton, explain why this boy lies in my tent, as one dead."

There was a pause as the man turned his attention from one soldier to another. The imperturbable Mage replied slowly and deliberately.

"We came across the sacrificial grove on patrol. He was there with the Druids. The Druids are dead. He lives yet. He is of the Beacon Hill clan and ward. Ruling clan blood, he has the royal tattoo."

There was a short unwilling bark of laughter from the imposing figure.

"I thought you Mages were poets and bards" mocked the Alpha.

"Only in the language of the Gods" was the prompt, fluid and unflinching reply.

A hiss of outrage erupted from the others in the room, but the Alpha General merely laughed harder. He could enjoy the Mage's disrespectful wit, no other would dare to speak to him in that fashion and it was refreshing. As soon as it became irritating, the Alpha would ensure that the slit in the Mage's throat from one of his claws would silence the irritation for ever.

The Omega struggled to combat the effects of the drug. The voice of power, he must see his face. He forced his eyelids open, and as they tried to focus in the dim light of the tent, he saw shadowy outlines of men, ghostly images that flickered and wavered.

Deaton the Mage was easily distinguished, despite his difficulty in focussing. Large, muscular, fully attired in the proper manner. The others seemed younger and stockier, beside the Mage but he couldn't bring them into focus. He tried to find the voice of power but knew he was still too weak.

He hadn't heard the footsteps come closer but he felt the aura surround him, arrogantly expecting his surrender. He knew it was the Alpha. Such strength called to him, wouldn't let him sink back into the depths of the drug, he drew on his weary spark and focused his will as he had been taught, and then widened his eyes.

He felt the Alpha loom above him; he had the height and bulk of a Master Mage. The Alpha's hand came into the range of his vision. Strong, blunt fingers, as brown as the earth took hold of his chin and turned his face towards him. The Omega felt the imprint of those fingers down to his very bones and fire licked through his belly. No, No his heat wasn't due for another three weeks. This was impossible, and then the voice of power echoed through his brain, sinew and blood and suddenly it was hard to breathe. He could feel the onset of an attack of fear so great that he began to think he was dying. Until the Mage chanted the calming mantra the Omega had been taught since he was a small child, body breath mind, body breath mind, body breath mind and gently touched his neck to reinforce the chant as if the Mage knew that he didn't have the strength or attention span to do it himself.

The Omega felt his anxious body begin to relax, and he now had time to focus on the big bad Alpha werewolf. He was desperate to see his face, and when his vision cleared, the boy's beautiful brown eyes widened with terror.

Three bands of metal split the Alpha General's face, only his green eyes showed any life as they flickered to red and they bored into his very soul.

Instinctively he tried to scream but he couldn't even open his mouth. The scream raged inside him desperate for release but no sound came from his throat, he was dead, he must be, he was in one of the hells with his throat cut or his tongue torn out.

A solitary tear slid down his cheek and onto the Alpha's forefinger, as his red eyes bore into the Omega, claiming him. The Omega lost the battle for consciousness and slid back into the twilight world of the drug, those hypnotic red eyes following him there.

The General studied the boy impassively as he removed his helmet and handed it to the kneeling servant waiting for him. He had watched the boy's silent struggle, seen the desperation and terror in the soft brown eyes until those pretty eyes had glazed over and he had fainted, had felt the warmth of the boy's tear as it flowed across his finger.

Underneath the grime and the vivid darkening bruises his skin was pale as the delicious cream of the Alpha's homeland and soft so very soft, blessed with the beauty marks of the gods, little black dots which teased and tantalised their way across the boy's slim lithe form.  
The Omega's braided hair was as dark and soothing as the depths of the mating caves in his native land. His features were delicate but his chin was strong, determined and his soft pink lips full and stubborn.  
The Alpha found himself ready to smile at the beautiful picture the boy made which appalled him so that his scowl stayed in place, conscious always of his audience.

The tunic the boy wore was longer than that commonly worn by the Human tribe's people of this area. It looked ceremonial. It was white but decorated in those circular symbols the humans used for everything.

He was taller than most of the Omegas male or female the Alpha had ever seen before but then Mage protected humans were tall (grew like weeds according to Whittemore, the Alpha thought with amusement)

The Omega's body was firm, strong and the ripped tunic displayed the round thrust and proud point of his left nipple, which was the distinctive Omega shape for the suckling of their young, and the pleasuring of their Alphas, and ensured he would not be mistaken for a Beta.

He wore no brigga, the leg covering's favoured by this particular group of Humans, his legs were bare, long and sleek. The Alpha General idly wondered if the tribe's Omegas were kept bare legged for the convenience of their Alphas, but one look at the face of the large Mage standing protectively over the drugged boy changed his mind about asking the question.  
The Alpha General almost stiffened with shock as he realised that the most important thing that crossed his mind about this situation was that if he collared this Omega as his, he would keep him without clothes at all. His cock actually hardened at the thought of the naked boy. He began to get angry, this was foolishness, he wasn't interested in some Omega from a backward human tribe who probably didn't even know how to read and would not be able to run the homestead and pack of an Alpha unlike the properly groomed Omega's of the Empire.  
He scowled ferociously; he didn't have the luxury of such thoughts in this bleak place. He was the living representative of the Alpha Werewolf Emperor who wanted this pathetic land and its forests with a desperation that he had never understood when the Hale Empire already had to deal with the pockets of rebellion like the criminals to the north. He shook off his musings, thoughts bordering uncomfortably on treason but Peter, the 12th Hale Emperor, by the gracious benevolence of the beautiful moon Goddess of the night, and his maternal Uncle, already knew his opinions, which was why he had ended up in this Gods forsaken accursed land. Peter Hale was a fearsome strategist, and he knew that his Alpha nephew Derek was his best warrior General; he would be amused that he was not only getting the human Mage land he wanted but with the added gift of "punishing" his nephew. Derek's sister Laura, heir apparent to the Emperor had laughed aloud at her brother's predicament and teased him unmercifully that he would be trapped into bonding in this accursed place and therefore be condemned to a human mage mate. The only, only reason that Derek hadn't killed her where she sat was because her laughter had sounded so much like their beloved mother, the 11th Hale Empress, who had been called to the arms of the gracious goddess with the rest of their immediate family when their summer residence had been attacked by the Argent terrorists. He refused to acknowledge that his older sister could defeat him in a fight.

A low growl issued from the Alpha's throat, which caused his personal guard of his pack mates to tense again. He forced himself to relax; it wouldn't do to allow himself to be distracted in this situation.

Instead he studied the woad design curled round the boy's legs, working its way up from his ankles. He couldn't see where the design came to an end, because of the length of the tunic. An unexpected desire to follow the design to its conclusion was ruthlessly suppressed.

His hands and feet were small, dainty and oddly clean. On his bare left shoulder, he saw faint traces of the tattoo the Mage had mentioned, curiously he reached to move more of the ripped tunic and uncovering the rest of the tattoo, ignoring the Mage's aggrieved reaction to his touching the boy, then he forgot everything as he saw the full tattoo for the first time. Blue interweaving spirals, it was unmistakeable, a stylised version of the Triskelion, the sacred ancient emblem of the royal Hale lineage. The only humans who were blessed with the sacred emblem were the treasured mates of the Hale pack. It was an instant death sentence for anyone other than a mate to be adorned with the Triskelion. To see it on the flesh of a Mage bred human incensed him and rage rushed through his blood with the force of a blow. He raised his head and howled his fury, his guard dropped as one to their knees, only the foolish Mage stood uncomprehending beside the Omega as the Alpha began to transform, red eyes focused on his prey as he roared with terrifying rage.

His howl and roar had pulled the boy from his drugged state and those doe eyes fixed on the monster emerging beside him. His almost silent terrified whimper drew the murderous red eyes of the werewolf Alpha towards him and he lay there unable to move but his body shaking involuntarily as he became the focus for the enraged wolf. He couldn't move, he couldn't run, he couldn't beg for his life, he could only watch as the enormous wolf loomed over his prone body his relentless gaze forcing the boy's eyes to stay open. Terrified tears flowed from his eyes as the Wolf's jaws came to rest against the juncture of his neck and his throat.

He could hear nothing except the Wolf's breathing, and he felt the hot breath against his skin as the Wolf inhaled his scent. Suddenly his body arched into a silent scream as he felt the sharp fangs bite into his shoulder just above his tattoo, and he was shaking with terror. Oh Gods, he didn't even have the ability to beg the Wolf for a merciful and quick death, those teeth stayed in his shoulder for what seemed like hours as he shook with the pain and terror and then to his utter shock he was released whilst a rough tongue lapped at his blood and soothed the tearing pain of the bite. The Wolf raised his head and those red eyes stared again into the traumatised terrified soft eyes of the Omega, and he growled words the boy did not understand "Wolf Mate" but this time the growl was soft and ended in a whine as the Omega lost the battle for his consciousness again.

Derek's fury knew no bounds as he had the filthy betrayer prone beneath him, he could hear the rabbit fast beat of the omega's heart and taste the terror he exuded over the Omega pheromones with the delicate scent of the forest that spoke of brambles, dappled sunshine, pine cones, the pattering of wind on the tree leaves and cool lapping streams and running with his mate beside him.

Derek had bitten into the little traitor's shoulder above that blasphemous tattoo intending to destroy the thing before he tore him limb from limb, when the Omega's scent had exploded in on his anger and rage and thirst for blood, and as the first drops of the Omega's blood burst onto his tongue, he stilled in appalled recognition with the odd thought that he was going to kill his sister, slowly and over many days so that she suffered as he was now suffering, before his brain caught up with his body's instincts and he recognised his mate on his tongue and the scent he breathed into his lungs.

He stilled until he could trust himself to gently remove his fangs from the boy's torn flesh, and gently sealed the wound with his tongue as he took in his mate's life essence and then raised his great head to stare with shame into the terrified eyes of his beautiful omega.

Before the boy could fade back into unconsciousness, Derek growled his claim so that all would know "Wolf Mate" and couldn't restrain a whine as his injured Omega slid once more into the darkness of his own mind.

* * *

AN: First story in the Fandom, so please be kind. Hope it is true to character even though it is an AU based on Roman and Celtic politics and history. And if you are not interested in that, just think about Derek Hale dressed as a Roman... mmmmm ( eat your heart out Russell Crowe) Please let me know what you think xx

Disclaimer: No infringement intended, doesn't belong to me only playing.


	2. Chapter 2

The Werewolf did not have long to give in to his need to pine and brood as he felt the threat from the furious Mage, and swung his massive arm to the side to sweep the man to the floor before he could complete the deadly spell. In a leap so fast that the Mage had barely time to draw breath, Derek was straddling his crumpled body. The Mage was a large man but the Alpha Werewolf was huge and completely blanketed the prone figure.

Deaton starred up into the red eyes of the Wolf and knew he faced his death, but his rage at the offence to the defenceless Omega overrode his normal good sense.

"The boy is royal caste and you dare to claim him without sanction" he snarled into the beast's muzzle. As the Alpha opened his jaws to rip out his throat, the Mage seemed to regain his calm and offered with a barely concealed smirk "Would you risk open warfare with the Sheriff for my death General Hale?"

The Wolf paused, his posture menacing as he considered the Mage's words, he felt the blood lust and need to destroy but his cunning brain, even in his wolf form, which ensured that Derek Hale remained the most successful warrior the Hale Empire had ever birthed, was taking control of his feral ferocity. The Mage would live for now, because he was useful.

Obviously his intention to spare the Mage had not been clear because the man continued with slightly more desperation "You will need a neutral party to plead your case with the Omega's sire and the Sheriff, if they are not one and the same, and if they do not immediately order your death"  
The Werewolf huffed with amused disdain, at the ridiculous thought, and eased back from the Mage. Derek knew the Mage had spoken true once more. He had not caught him out in a lie yet but he was always aware of the possibility. Trust was not a gift he bestowed lightly, especially not to a warrior of a culture as different as the Mage Humans. In the relatively peaceful dealings the Werewolf Empire had to date with the Sheriff's tribes since he had marched his legions across the border in a show of blatant and obvious force, the inclusion of the Mage as a neutral liaison between the court of the Sheriff and the invading army of werewolves had proved of benefit. Derek had no doubt that if he did kill the annoying bastard that their lives would be made more difficult, not that he had any qualms about who would win, but for some reason the Emperor wanted as little bloodshed as possible in the affair. And a little guilty whisper at the back of his mind asked if Derek might be able to repair some of the harm he had done to his little Omega by petitioning the boy's relatives and Alpha ruler. He instantly dismissed the weak thought with a frown, allowing the meddlesome Mage to petition on his behalf made good strategic and military sense in this sensitive matter.

The Alpha transitioned back into human form, not caring that he was naked and half hard beside his young omega mate, and the boy was his mate, politics and diplomacy be damned.  
Whittemore hurried to his Alpha with a plain red tunic and helped him to dress whilst the Alpha continued to stare at the Mage, who had got to his feet, and then assumed the same impassive expression he normally wore around the volatile and armed Werewolves.

After Whittemore had buckled his leather belt, the centurion stepped away again and went back to his knees where the other guards had remained.

The General allowed himself one swift glance at his oblivious unconscious Omega, a gleam of satisfaction finally changing the red eyes back to intense green. But he had more urgent considerations at present.

Why would a precious male omega child of the royal household of a mostly peaceful and soon to be client tribe of the most powerful Empire on the Western Continent, be the chosen sacrifice of the Druids? The political ramifications would bring his Uncle's newly appointed Governor, Senator Harris out in a cold sweat, he thought with grim amusement. Just when they thought they were getting to grips with this damp, benighted place, something happened that could upset the balance of power again. This would need careful handling by the Governor. But that was Harris's problem, Derek Hale. Nephew to the Emperor, Supreme Commander of the invading Werewolf army (and no matter what spin that pathetic little weasel Harris put on it to the Sheriff of Beacon Hill, they were there as Invaders and they would be triumphant, one way or the other), and Alpha General of his own personal Legion the tenth, he would do what he had to in order to protect what was his. He had now taken the boy as Wolf mate. The binding might not be finished yet and once he had calmed down, he would consider allowing the Sheriff to host the ceremony but no- one endangered his mate, no-one and those fucking druids were now on his list of priorities as training practice and fresh meat for his Wolves.

Without turning from his study of the beautiful boy, he barked an order "Whittemore, get the physician to look over my Omega".

The Mage spoke dryly before Whittemore could answer him.

"He needs to sleep only. Your healer will not be able stop the drug. It is used to keep them peaceful while the sacrifice is carried out. It does no other harm."

"Jackson" the General repeated without acknowledging the troublesome Mage had spoken. "Aye Sir" answered the soldier promptly. He did not see the smug glance that the handsome square jawed soldier gave the Mage, nor the indifferent shrug Deaton gave in response.

"How do you know so much about the secrets of the druids Deaton?" the General asked quietly, but true menace threaded his words.

Deaton considered the question, not in fear for his life, for though he was Mage, he was a warrior and the love of battle sang deep in his soul, but because he was a tribesman, and the listening men were the two natured of the Empire. Some matters were not for the ears of savages.

He waited long enough for the General to turn his head towards him and look at him with those soul-searching green eyes. He allowed the Alpha to see the absence of fear in his own before he permitted himself to speak.

"The Chosen are given the drug well before the time of sacrifice. It needs time to work its will on the body. During this time, omens are taken to determine if the Gods are pleased with the choice. If the omens are wrong, the unlucky one is taken from the glade and left in the forest with water. They have a great thirst when the drug wears off. If they are not killed by an animal before they regain their wits they can return to their tribe and will never have to fear being chosen again. Once the Gods have spat you out, the priests will not offend them by taking you again."

There was black humour in the last sentence after the studied indifference of the rest.

The Alpha General listened impassively to his words, well knowing that the mysterious Mage had not answered his question. The Mage had turned vague and unsatisfactory responses into an art form. Before Derek could decide if he wanted to make an issue of it, the noise outside the tent warned of Whittemore's return with Derek's personal physician.

He acknowledged the army surgeon with a nod "Scott, see to the boy".

The dark haired sweet faced Surgeon looked back at him with good-natured affectionate exasperation "Derek, my Alpha, what is wrong with him?"

The General's lips twitched in what could almost be a fond smile before he answered brusquely

"He was to be a sacrifice, he was drugged. I don't know what other harm has befallen him" he ended his words and raised his eyebrows at Whittemore.

"He was not touched by the patrol. A druid was about to mount him when Deaton took the Druid's head, but I don't know if he was the first or last" Whittemore answered his Alpha's question stiffly.

The Mage spoke before he was asked. "Only one priest is given that duty" and then refused to say more, even under the awe-inspiring flashing green-eyed scrutiny of the General.

The physician became professional as he examined the Omega, his hands quick and sure. His gaze was sharp and knowing. As he worked, the General dismissed all but Whittemore and Deaton.

"No bones broken, rope burns to the wrist and ankles, bruise to the left cheek , probably from the horse pommel when he was brought here, he has not been raped, there is no trace of Semen and is still under the influence of the drug administered to him. I am not sure but something seems to have triggered the early stages of his heat" He reported automatically as he worked.

Scott looked up at the quiet Mage, "What was used to drug him?" but the Mage merely stared back at him without expression.

Anger flashed across his open expressive face, darkening those puppy like eyes. "If I don't know what has poisoned him how do I treat him", he shouted.

The Mage merely answered the last part of his question

"You let him sleep and you leave him water"

The Physician took a threatening step towards the bigger man, his fists clenched.

"Scott" warned the General softly, amused at his favourite's anger but refusing to indulge it. He was the only one allowed to lose control in his own legion by the Gracious Goddess.

The physician swung towards him, fury in every line of his body

"How do you expect...", he bit off his angry tirade, as he realised who he was berating. He acknowledged his Alpha with a quick submissive bow of his head and said stiffly, "I will take him to the infirmary and monitor his condition there Derek "

As he turned away, the Alpha took hold of his arm and stopped him

"No, he will remain here in my tent." The possessive growl made the Surgeon flick his eyes back over the bite mark on the Omega's shoulder once more before he turned to look sharply at his Alpha as if he would protest, but something in Derek's face stopped him. He acquiesced quietly.

"Yes Derek, I will have an orderly attend him."

Before he could even finish his sentence, the Alpha General was shaking his head

"Not necessary Scott, as Deaton knows how to treat the drug, he will remain here with him, and so will I" It would also do some damage limitation with the Royal family, Derek thought wryly.

If the Mage heard the threat implicit in those softly spoken words he gave no sign, the huge woven dark cloak across his shoulders rippled as he shrugged his unconcern.

Unease crossed the younger man's face. "At least Derek, allow me to send one of the betas to see to his needs, to make him comfortable" he pleaded in an undertone, knowing he presumed on the General's patronage of his family, but his healers instinct and noble wolf upbringing would not allow him to see an Omega of rank, even a Human, shamed in such a way when he was unconscious. To be attended by two Alphas only, in such a vulnerable state, no he could not condone it.

The General ran a hand through his luxurious dark mane of hair. He wearily rubbed his neck and looked back at his physician. Affection lightened his stern features and he smiled at him as he scolded only half in jest,

"McCall you are too soft hearted"

"Aye sir" came the prompt answer but still he stood stubbornly waiting, hardly daring to breathe until the General released him from his intense gaze.

"Send one of the Betas here, while I bathe and rid myself of the dirt of this dreary country. The Beta may see to the boy's needs." he relented at last.

"Thank you Sir" the surgeon uttered as he beat a hasty retreat from the General's quarters before he could change his mind. The General watched his departure with wry amusement.

Deaton had watched this episode with interest, and then he turned to follow the surgeon, but the Alpha Generals' voice stopped him.

"I did not give you permission to leave Mage" he uttered icily. The big Mage turned back to face the irate Werewolf.

"I was going to fetch the water for the boy, he will need it soon" he uttered with unruffled calm. The rebuke had made no dent in his indifference, and there was even a hint of amusement in the eyes of the grey haired giant studying him. That amusement made the General even more suspicious of the Mage. For a passionate Mage warrior he was too calm. Most of his comrades would have laid about with one of their fierce war axes by now in response to even one of Jackson's insults, but this man took it all in his stride. There were too many unanswered questions about Deaton. But not for very much longer, he vowed silently, as he gave his permission for the water to be fetched. He watched the Mage leave the tent, and then turned his attention to the boy once more. He studied his pale face. He had met the Sheriff of Beacon Hills once, at the formal welcome for the new Governor. He studied his mate's face curiously for any family resemblance to the sturdy solid Alpha Sheriff but couldn't see it there.

The boy was a puzzle in more ways than one, a puzzle that he couldn't afford to ignore or overlook. He would learn his secrets and decide what was best for the Empire. And as Derek was the living representative of the Empire than that meant he would decide what was best for Derek, and as Derek and his Wolf had already decided that the Omega was his, it all worked out well. And if the uncharacteristic Mage in his employ proved any threat to the Empire, he would also deal with him. Deaton would be executed without compunction.

* * *

AN: Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think. No infringement intended.


	3. Chapter 3

Unexpectedly the silent boy whimpered, almost as if he had picked up the ruthless nature of his musings, but more likely due to his body's discomfort which was breaking through the numbness induced by that damned unknown drug.

Derek moved towards the couch and saw the struggle he had to open his eyes. He leant closer almost instinctively encouraging him. Possessive pride swelled in his gut. His little one had courage and was stubborn, traits that were appreciated in werewolf omegas for they were passed onto their pups. Derek's eyes flared red briefly as he thought with satisfaction about siring his pups on this Omega. Their pups would be beautiful and strong and worthy of the Hale name, and the Empire.

The boy's eyelids slowly slid up to reveal those incredible deep and soothing brown eyes again, and his jaw worked as he desperately tried to say something. A bare whisper of sound forced its way past his lips and he leant closer to try to hear his words, all the time Derek's eyes stayed locked on to the boy's.

The boy struggled with his unresponsive body, Merciful Bel give him strength, he thirsted, his body felt as dry as the dead leaves of winter. If only he could say the word this terrifying enormous leader of the Wolfmen would understand.

"Aqua" he tried again, desperate for the water, and something in the green eyed gaze of the fearsome Warrior leaning over him, forced him to continue, gave him the strength to try again. The Alpha leant even closer to his struggling lips and this time heard his rasped appeal. The boy wanted water, and he had asked for it in common language of the Empire, not the tongue of his tribes' people.

Derek was intrigued, helpless and in the grip of a powerful drug, the boy had still recognised that he was in Empire hands and he had forced his tongue to pronounce the strange word that would ease his need. The smile that crossed the Alpha's face was as triumphant as when he was successful in battle. The initial bonding might have been instinctive because of his wolf, but the more he studied the boy, the better pleased the Man was. Stubborn, resourceful, courageous and intelligent with eyes he could drown in and creamy skin he would taste to his hearts content. As a warrior and strategist, Derek had been forced to learn as many languages as the peoples he had conquered, and whilst he had interpreters, when it came to the safety of the Empire, he was always cautious. (Jackson had called him paranoid once when the pack were drunk together and instead of punishing the impudent pup he had agreed with a dark laugh and told him that his success had depended on it. Only his true pack mates were to be trusted and he had no skilled interpreter amongst them.) But Derek had never been held immobile, defenceless and vulnerable in the presence of someone who was infinitely more powerful and dangerous and tried to use his skill at languages to beg for aid before he could even gain the strength to sit up. The boy, his boy was fascinating.

The Alpha moved away from him towards a side table that held a small bowl of water and a natural sponge. He felt rather than heard the sigh of defeated despair as the boy realised that he had gone away. As Derek returned towards him with the wet sponge, he could almost feel the struggle he had to maintain any kind of consciousness, and saw another solitary tear trail its way down his pale delicate cheek.

Derek was bending over the boy before he realised the Alpha was back, with the sponge gently pressed to his full lips as he spoke softly "Crying will make you more thirsty". The boy's eyes were more aware, and he frowned up at the Alpha as he tried to understand his words, whilst desperately trying to suckle the moisture from the sponge, feeling the wonderful relief of water trickling down his parched throat.

Derek used his other hand to gently collect the tear from that pale fascinating face and used the word "aqua" as he showed him the tiny liquid prism. Derek saw comprehension dawn in his eyes and then unexpectedly a flash of amusement before he finally gave into the exhaustion caused by his great struggle and slid back into unconsciousness.

He squeezed the last drops of water from the sponge against those pale lips and watched as they slid into his mouth, soon he thought with lust clutching at his belly, his tongue would follow the water's trail into that mouth and claim it for himself, but he forced his mind back to more practical matters and left him to put the sponge back into the bowl of water. When the Alpha turned around, Deaton was entering the tent carrying two large water skins slung over those broad muscular shoulders. The Alpha General raised his thick expressive eyesbrows, and answering the unspoken question the Mage gave a sudden grin. "I said thirsty and I meant it". Before the General could respond, the boy began to whimper again, the Mage unceremoniously dropped one of the water carriers and went towards the prone boy with the other. Before he could open the skin, the Alpha General handed him the sponge. "You will need this" Derek stated as he turned towards his body servant who had just entered the inner quarters. "What is it Matt?" he demanded of the man. "Sir the bathing room is ready for you and the beta woman is here, the one from Surgeon McCall.".

The General nodded, "Send the woman in first and then I will be ready to bathe". The servant nodded and ushered in one of the camp women.

"Do you know your duties Woman?" Derek demanded with a growl of warning, as he studied her. He was satisfied with the choice, Scott had sent Melissa, a freed Beta human slave who had been his wet nurse when his own Dam had died at his birth. Melissa had served the McCall household until Scott had finished his training and pledged himself to the Alpha Derek Hale, after surviving the true pack mate ordeal of endurance and blood, and then she had become a camp follower, not leaving Scott out of her sight as if she was his birth mother, until Scott had gained Derek's permission to accept her to train as one of his medical orderlies. Remembering Scott's reaction to the little Omega, Derek realised the Surgeon would not trusted anyone else with the task. "Aye sir, "the woman responded. " I am to look after the poor boy"

"He is a child of the Royal Household of Beacon Hills, you will remember that and treat him with respect " growled the Mage with an implicit threat, in the only the second show of emotion the General had seen since the whole episode had started.  
The older dark haired woman couldn't stop her start of surprise but after a quick look at the Alpha General who was staring with a frightening focus at the Mage she merely dipped her head in agreement and murmured something soothing. She tore her gaze away from the two protagonists with an involuntary shudder and moved towards the unconscious boy on the couch to begin her gentle ministrations. Her heart melted at the sight of the distressed boy and the thought that he was now the prize of the most terrifying werewolf she had ever seen in a lifetime spent in the werewolf Empire.

"I will remain here" Deaton announced firmly as the Alpha General made his way towards his waiting man servant. Derek stopped, and the Mage could see the way the muscles in his neck and shoulders tightened as without turning to face the Mage, he growled softly but with true menace. "You will survive for only seconds after any harm befalls my mate. I will rip your throat out with my teeth and then feed your still beating heart to the camp rats."


	4. Chapter 4

Deaton watched the Alpha stride out of the tent with one eyebrow raised. He had a little time before that smug Werewolf bastard returned and he really needed to see what he could do for the little Omega. The Alpha hadn't asked for information yet, he was still distracted by the unexpected bonding from his wolf, but Hale was an exceptional warrior and a Hale. They had forged an Empire based on their family pack and they did not leave things to chance. Before long the Alpha was going to be asking questions about the boy and the Mage needed to know as much about the Omega as possible to ensure that he found a way to rescue him from this appalling situation.  
Deaton had to speak to the lad before Hale came back but now there was the added complication of the Beta servant tending to the boy. They should be ok as long as they kept to the local dialect, the woman did not look like as if she came from one of the tribes but he needed to find out. If she only spoke the common language of the Empire then he would take his chance with the boy,

"Woman, he needs water, use the skins I brought with me" he ordered in the local tongue, the woman turned to face him, and spoke softly "I regret sir, I do not understand you, do you need me to do something for the boy?"

Deaton smiled at her kindly and she tentatively smiled back, "Forgive me lady" he addressed her with a gentle courtesy, it was not her fault that she in effect a thrall to the two natured. "The Omega does not understand your tongue and I will need to speak to him in his own language to ascertain his well-being. Is that permissible?"

The sweet faced woman looked flustered for a moment but as the young boy groaned aloud, she turned quickly to the Mage and begged him to ask the boy what she could do to help him. Her anxious gaze was directed at the prone omega so she didn't see the Mage's smile widen with satisfaction, she only heard his calm agreement.

"Dear One, can you hear me? I need you to listen to me?" Deaton kept his voice soothing and calm as he repeated the two statements over and over until he saw the Omega open his eyes and focus on him. His smile at the struggling Omega was warm, kind and reassuring and grew wider with satisfaction as he saw the boy's intelligence peek through.  
He would give offerings to every God and Goddess he could think of if only he could get this precious Omega away from the treacherous two natured. He was a child of the Sheriff's Household, " Dear One, can you tell me your name?" he asked softly, determined not to frighten the boy any further with any urgency in his tone.  
The Omega blinked at him and tried to speak but the Mage could see how difficult it was for him. Tears of frustration gathered in those soft eyes, so Deaton tried a different way to ask the same question.  
"Dear One, nod once for yes and twice for no, can you do that?" He watched as the boy nodded his head once. "I have to make sure that wasn't a chance movement Dear One, are you an Alpha" The boy nodded his head twice, tension slowly seeped out of the Mage's shoulder's, he had a way to communicate with the boy, one more question to be sure "Are you a beta?", the boy nodded twice, his desperate eyes fixed on the Mage's face. Deaton smiled at him gently "Brave boy, You are an Omega of the Royal caste?" a single nod, "Are you Danny, the Sheriff's dear foster son?" two nods, "You are Stiles then Dear one, the Sheriff's own beloved son" and although the Mage did not phrase it as a question, the boy nodded once as if desperate to communicate now that they had found a way.

"Do you know where you are Stiles?" The boy nodded twice and the Mage frowned, "Do you remember the Sacred Grove?" still the boy nodded twice, and Deaton's frown grew bigger but he still spoke gently to the boy as he reassured " You will remember Dear One do not fret" Stiles stared at him, his eyes wide with fear. He wasn't sure that he wanted to remember.

"Listen to me Dear One, we do not have a lot of time left, General Derek Hale the Alpha Wolf has claimed you as Mate, but only with the first bite, he has agreed to petition your father for the right to fully mate with you. I can help you when we get to your father's household but you must not provoke him or try to run or his Wolf will gain ascendency over his Man and the Wolf will take you anyway. Do you understand?" The boy's eyes grew impossibly wider with terror. Panic began to lick at his mind until the Mage's hand and calming chant distracted him. "Tell me you understand Stiles?" he whispered and Stiles gave a single nod.

The Mage quickly looked up from the boy and saw the Beta woman staring at him with a suspicious frown, Deaton moved away from the prone boy and turned his most charming smile on the servant. "The boy would be more comfortable if he was cleansed and given more water" he made his statement sound as if that was what he and the boy had been talking about and watched with satisfaction as the woman relaxed and smiled faintly at him with gratitude.

Stiles ignored the conversation. He wanted to scream to the Gods, but it seemed that his punishment for his awful stubbornness and disobedience to his father was the binding of his tongue. Merciful Bel please do not let it be permanent, the young Omega thought in despair. His tongue was his greatest joy and his strongest weapon.

He spoke the truth to the Mage, he did not remember the Sacred Grove but as the strange Mage had spoken to him he remembered what had led up to it. His despair and remorse overwhelmed him. What did he care what happened to him now? Even if he was the Werewolf's chattel, he didn't deserve to live, he had lost his Danny, his beloved Danny. How was he going to tell his father? How was he going to survive this? Why was he still alive?

_Two days earlier:_

"Dan, Danny, Dan the Man, Danny dearest, darling Danny" whined Stiles, hopping around his seated cousin like a frantic frog, his arms flailing with his own brand of insane eagerness "Sweet Dan, Kind Dan, generous loving beautiful and tolerant Dan, Danny my best friend, my only friend, my treasure, my hero, my mighty warrior, Danny the best dressed, most handsomest, most Omega like Omega in the whole history of the wide world of the Tribes people, the Omega most likely to succeed, the Omega that all the Mages drool over, the Omega who just luuuurves his baby best bro Stiles"

Stiles flung himself near the wooden bench and lay his head on his cousin's knees as he pouted and fluttered his ridiculous eyelashes up at the gorgeous dark haired Omega who was pointedly ignoring him or at least trying his best to. Damn Stiles and his uncanny ability to make him laugh.

"No Stiles" Danny said simply, as he tried to continue reading, refusing to look at the boy's face because he knew that he would succumb in the end to the pouting, the silly faces and the sweet talk. Stiles was a menace, an adorable stubborn gleeful loving manipulative menace and Danny was determined that this time he wouldn't give in to his fellow Omega's emotional blackmail and evil manipulation.

He had loved Stiles wholly and completely since the day that Danny was delivered as a terrified young boy to the Sheriff of Beacon Hills in the time honoured tradition of fostering the children of other nobility to strengthen ties with the other tribes, a tradition which also allowed for the holding of long term hostages to ensure that treaties were honoured. But that didn't mean that Danny was stupid, he knew how dangerous his foster brother could be especially when he was bored or he wanted to satisfy that insatiable curiosity of his, but the trouble was, every time he tried to turn him down he remembered what a kind and loving heart the Sheriff's son had.

Tiny wide eyed Stiles had peeped around his father's knees at the scared little boy who was trying so hard not to cry at being taken away from all that he loved and left with a huge scary warrior Sheriff of another tribe who had the biggest war axe he had ever seen and was scowling at Danny's relatives and fellow clans people as if they were criminals. The tiny omega had pushed his big scary father out of the way as he grumbled "Move Daddy" and handed Danny a sweet honeycomb as he chirped"Will you be my friend Danny?" like a little bird.  
and not waiting for an answer, had grabbed the other boy's hand, laughed "come and play" and had pulled him away to race around the village, not stopping talking for a second as he described every single stone, tree branch, and insect in their path and then proceeded to visit every indulgent and smiling adult in said village, and carry off many treats and sweetmeats in triumph to Stile's secret Den that only Danny was ever allowed to know about because silly Lydia was being silly about the bugs and the dirt so she didn't deserve to come to their secret den, Danny had wondered if Stiles actually needed to breath because he didn't stop talking but he was devoted to his younger foster brother from the second that Stiles had given him the honeycomb.

In the midst of all that Stiles father had laughed merrily and his disapproving nobles had tried to remind him that Stiles was supposed to be fostered in return to Danny's tribe. The Sheriff had kept his smile on his face but menace had dripped from his words as he gently swung his war axe. "I will not repeat myself my good and wise advisors, Stiles is staying with me." One foolish noble had dared to complain that just because Stiles looked like his dead mother, the Sheriff had lost all sense of diplomacy and tradition. The whistling of the axe as it clipped the top knot from the mouthy tribesman's head and buried itself in the sturdy tree at least fifty feet behind them, had the intended effect of silencing all the grumbling about Stiles' future and the Sheriff's lack of political judgement. The Sheriff smiled kindly at the shorn and shaken nobleman and offered him the chance to send his first born in place of Stiles, an honour that the nobleman hastily agreed to.

"But Danny, I heard Allison say that the Werewolves have already set up camp only a few miles away now ready for the treaty negotiations. Come on man we could just go and take a look, Dad went to see the Governor, he didn't come here, do you think they are so hairy that they don't need any clothes? The Wolves are supposed to be enormous Dan, like giants. Seriously these are the legendary Empire legions Dan, we've just got to see them." Stiles had bounced up from Danny's lap and stared at his face with earnest desperation.

"Gods Stiles, you are eighteen years old, not eight, when are you going to learn patience like a grown up. You'll see them when they come in two days' time anyway, what's the big deal?" Danny asked with exasperated logic.

Stiles opened his eyes wide with fake betrayal, and said in his best little boy whine "Because we will get to see them first dude and it will drive Lydia insane that we know more than she does! How can you not know this, how can you not feel the need to do this to the depths of your soul?" His laughing brown eyes were fixed on Danny's long suffering face.

"How can you not know that your Dad will have us ploughing the fields with our finger tips if we mess up again after that little "misunderstanding" at the trader's market last month?" Danny groaned with angry disbelief, "Seriously Stiles leave me out of it", and he left his seat to storm off back to the Sheriff's round house. Stiles watched him go with a satisfied half smile.

His Danny could always be relied upon to fall in with Stiles absolutely brilliant ideas, even when he didn't know it himself

Danny was still silently cursing his own foolish weakness and stupidity and Stiles unending stubbornness as they made their way through the sleeping village in the depths of the moonless night. They avoided the paths of the Sentries, and slipped deep into the surrounding preserve, "Do you even know where you are going Stiles?" he hissed angrily.

Stiles' wicked grin back over his shoulder almost made Danny laugh. Damn that kid to all the hells. "Of course I do you grumpy omega you, I ever so subtly got the information from our hard arse beautiful Captain of the Hunter Warriors"

Danny came to a full stop and put his hands to his head in despair, "Please Stiles, please tell me you didn't mention this to Allison Argent, your father's fanatical Hunter Warrior Captain, the Allison who can hit a leaf at the top of an oak tree with multiple arrows while she has her eyes closed, is standing on her head singing and beating our arses at weapons training at the same time, the one who tells your Dad every time we mess up, that same Allison" he groaned desperately

Before Stiles could open his mouth to answer, a terrifying menacing howl broke the silence of the forest. Instinctively the two boys stepped closer together, Danny's arm going protectively around the younger Omega as they both turned in the direction of the noise.

"What the fu.." Danny's sentence was cut short as the two terrified young men saw the pair of glowing red eyes staring fixedly at them with deadly intent from the trees straight ahead of them.

* * *

**AN:**

Cliff hanger... heheheh

Bel is one of the celtic gods of healing, sometimes referred to as the Shining one, and confused with Apollo.

No infringement intended.

So Stiles speaks, what do you think, is he true to character? Let me know your thoughts, as this is my first venture into this fandom. Thanks xx


	5. Chapter 5

The dark haired earnest young physician was hunched over his desk engrossed in his research. He was going to have to make sure that the General knew about the different types of wolfs bane in this damn cold and miserable country. One of the legionaries had been unlucky enough to fall into one lurid patch one of their regular patrols. Well unlucky for him because the stocky wolf had come out in hives and his eyes had swollen shut, but lucky for the rest of the army because it meant that Scott had developed an antidote for a new strain of the plant. He was going to have to lead an expedition to see if they could find any more varieties or other more useful herbs and plants. He wondered if he could convince his Alpha that he needed to speak to one of the Tribespeople's healers. If he pestered him long enough he might get him to agree or possibly he could use the Omega angle as leverage. Information on how to treat the Omega could be added to the request and Derek would surely relent his strict rule on intermixing with the Tribes before the official ceremony. Official ceremony his fragrant wolfy ass, it was an excuse for another piss up with these people. That's all they did was drink. Scott wouldn't have minded so much but because of their supernatural metabolism they couldn't get drunk properly unless it was wolf's bane treated alcohol and nothing would persuade him to try any doctored drinks in this land thank you very much.

The country was a boil on the backside of the Empire and should have been left to explode in its own pus, he hated it here and it wasn't even warm by the gracious moon huntress. He didn't care that his Emperor wanted it, he was Derek's wolf, not that manipulative cunning creepy Alpha's. He remembered that it had been a close call though.

He had escaped being true pack of the then powerful Lord Peter Hale, the Chancellor of the Empire by the skin of his teeth, or rather the teeth of the Empress and his Alpha Derek.

For as long as Scott could remember the Lord had watched him from afar. His wet nurse Melissa had often taken him away when she had seen the powerful Lord study him and once she even endured a beating because she had been less than polite to the Lord who had had come upon them in his parent's private garden. When Scott had grown old enough to select his servants, he had made sure that the devoted woman was always part of his household and she was never beaten again.

He had been a scion of one of the privileged Wolf families allowed to play with the Empress's cubs, and he had grown knowing Derek and Laura and the rest of the Hale siblings. He had liked Derek well enough but Laura had been his favourite and he had always hoped she would offer true pack rites to him, but he would never know if she would have even considered it because her Uncle had asked first on the eve of his sixteenth birthday, he had corned Scott in a dimly lit small library at the Empress's home, the one which held all the medical books and fascinating references to other lands and military strategy which drew Scott like a magnet, not one of the larger main three libraries which were used constantly by the family and Court.

"My dear boy", the older Alpha had purred as he closed the beautifully wrought hardwood door behind him with an ominous click, "I have been searching for you" The smile on the handsome older wolf's face had made Scott's wolf shiver with instinctive dread.

Scott politely nodded "My Lord" but he said no more, as he tried to frantically work out a way to get out of the room without just barrelling right over the top of the second most important person in the Empire and shoving him into the back of one of the long couches half hidden in the shadows.

The older wolf in his immaculate toga edged with the imperial purple stood there with a small knowing smile as if he had read the young one's mind, or merely the panic in those beautiful brown puppy eyes

"I have a question to ask you Scott, as it's your birthday tomorrow, and such a significant day for a young pup, I want to offer you my bite and initiation into my true pack. I am sure you will be a worthy addition to my pack and will serve me well." The smile grew wider as he studied the look of shock on the young wolf's face and something predatory hit his eyes as he could hear Scott's heartbeat speed up and feel the fear grow in the pup's body.

Peter moved closer to loom over the pup, his eyes smoothly transitioning to Alpha red, as he stared deep into the panicking brown eyes of the young one in front of him. Peter Hale had waited a long time for this moment and he relished the young pup's fearful confusion. He would not dare deny the brother of the Empress especially when he was on his own in a dark room with a determined Alpha. Oh yes, Scott McCall would do very nicely indeed as part of his true pack, he needed some fresh untried young blood to keep things…interesting.

The two wolves were startled when a gruff voice spoke from one of the shadowed couches, neither had smelt another wolf or heard another heartbeat to warn them. Only the Empress's children possessed that talent, gifted by their father who was the Empire's spy master.

"Uncle Peter, I have already spoken to Scott's parents about true pack initiation and they have given me permission to speak to Scott about my intentions." And Derek Hale moved gracefully to stand between the two wolves, his tunic in the rich dark blue colour he favoured, but fitted close enough to his body to display the powerful muscles in his chest and arms. His face as expressionless as usual except for the gleam of satisfaction in his green eyes, as he watched his Uncle's face darken as he delivered the final blow "As it is my intention to command Mama's legions, she thought it would be a good idea for me to have a proper physician in my true pack, once Scott completes his medical training" and he turned a small but genuine smile on the younger wolf noting but not commenting on the obvious utter relief in the pup's face. He turned to face the older Alpha as he stepped forward with badly concealed frustration and Scott watched in fascination and fear while he dropped instinctively to his knees in submission as the two Alphas bright red eyes challenged each other silently. It was only the door opening for the entrance of the Alpha Empress herself that staved off a potentially vicious Alpha fight.

"Now that's enough the pair of you, you are scaring the pup" she scolded sternly, her red eyes causing the other Alphas eyes to turn back to normal whilst baring their throats in obedience.

She ignored the two Alphas and turned her attention to the shivering frightened pup kneeling on the ground, "Come here little one, there is nothing to fear, you need not accept anyone's offer of the initiation bite for true pack until you are ready" she soothed, " and old enough" she added pointedly. Scott had leapt from the floor into her welcoming arms and whined into her neck as she chuckled at his eagerness. "Pretty pup, such a good pup, don't be afraid" she repeated gently as she motioned both Derek and Peter to leave the room and then carried him to one of the couches and cuddled him close until he had stopped shivering.

Scott McCall was many things but he wasn't stupid when it mattered, naïve and idealistic maybe, but not stupid when it came to being the chew toy between two imperial Alphas. No matter what the beautiful Talia, 11th Empress of the Hale Empire said, he knew damn well that no one else in court would now dare to offer him a place in a true pack because they would not challenge either of the two powerful Alphas who had already made their bid for him. He was so screwed, either Derek "grunting Alpha who only used his eyebrows to speak and who was so anti-social he preferred conquering foreign Lands to going to his mother's parties" Hale, eldest son of the Empress or Lord Peter "the creepiest creeper in creep land" Hale, Chancellor of the Empire and brother of the Empress was now going to be his pack Alpha.

Oh yes, he was screwed, officially utterly and completely screwed, but at least Derek didn't give him the same creepy feeling that even the sound of Peter's voice did, Derek was younger, more handsome (_if you were into that sort of thing but of course Scott wasn't , just saying on the off chance that initiation went a bit swirly, a bit touchy feely hands on sort of thing and what happens in initiation stays in initiation Goddess have mercy, that's right Alpha isn't it?)_ and Derek wanted him to become a Physician and that he could live with, hell he had wanted to be a physician since he was a really tiny pup, he could live with being part of Derek's true pack even if it meant dealing with that douchebag Jackson Whittemore, who was the first to be appointed to Derek's true pack.

Peter Hale just scared the ever living shit out of him, made him feel sick to his stomach and even curled up safely his Empress's lap, with her hands soothing through his black hair, he was still afraid of the older male Alpha. The expression in his eyes when he looked at Scott made the young wolf want to tuck his tail between his legs and run away whimpering to hide.

He whispered desperately against Talia's neck "Please Your Imperial Majesty, I choose Lord Derek." He could feel her smile of satisfaction even if he couldn't see it. "Very well pup, if that is your choice, we will tell him together and I will supervise your initiation myself so you don't have to be afraid." Her purring pleasure eased his fears and his body finally stopped shivering, he wasn't quite sure if he was supposed to leave her lap now his distress was fading but again his Alpha Empress seemed to read his mind. "Stay a while pup, I don't get to cuddle my young ones as often as I would like, allow me this small treat" she asked kindly, and Scott melted back into a puddle in the Alpha's arms. "And when you are Derek's you may call me Aunt Talia in private little one" He had play nipped at her teasing fingers without thinking and she had merely laughed at him. Her laughter was rich and deep and rang with joyous power through his body. He happily lay his head back against her neck and relaxed enough to begin to doze peacefully until he fell into a deep slumber. He wasn't aware of Derek's return to the room or the fact that he sat opposite his mother, watching the sleeping pup carefully with a strangely sad expression.

"He's too young for this Mama" he spoke softly so as not to disturb the young wolf. "Not legally but yes, he is," his mother agreed calmly "but there is no other way to protect him from Peter"

Derek looked at her angrily, "You could just order him" His mother tilted one of her eyebrows at him, "You know why that's not possible darling, now what's really wrong?"

Derek sighed and looked at the pup again. "He wanted Laura, not me" and then his expression closed over again as he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. He felt like a petulant jealous pup and that offended his sense of dignity.

His mother smiled at him with amusement. "Your father had to be dragged to the initiation rites and tied to the ceremonial posts before he would submit to my bite. He wanted to be part of Peter's pack because they were best friends growing up."

Derek looked at his mother in shock and then blushed hotly. "I am not going to mate with Scott". His mother's peal of laughter made the young pup stir but he went back to sleep at once even though the Empress was struggling to supress further laughter. Derek got up in a huff but his mother's gentle but unrelenting "Sit" dropped him in his seat again. "Darling, your father was true pack before he became my mate and of course Scott isn't your bond mate but he will be your devoted, loyal and loving pack mate, he would never be happy with Laura, much as I love and admire my heir, she would demand that he become what she needs him to be, she would never allow him the time to become what he needs to be, a physician and the boy's soul is too guileless for her care. Laura's smiling face hides a pragmatic and implacable soul. Your pragmatic implacable face hides a caring soul. True pack gives each pack mate what they need, not just the Alpha, my child. Scott needs you not Laura and you need him to remind you that you are still a young wolf yet, he will make you smile when you don't want to or have forgotten you could, even though when you are my General you will crush my enemies to dust and scare the pants off my allies." She finished proudly.

Derek had moved over to his mother, raised the hand that had been petting the young wolf's black hair and kissed it lovingly. He bowed to her and then presses a gentle kiss against the young wolf's head. "I will take care of him Mama", he promised her solemnly as he left.

The Empress smiled gently as she held the sleeping pup, "and you will take good care of him won't you little one, you will argue with him and make him angry and make him laugh until his proper mate finds him"

Scott had mourned deeply when the younger ones and the Empress and her Consort had died, but he had tried to help his Alpha through his grief. Scott knew there was something that festered inside Derek like infection in a wound but he couldn't get his Alpha to tell him what it was. Scott hated not being able to help his Alpha but he watched and he waited, Derek wouldn't be able to keep it silent forever, and then Scott would help to kill that particular infection and drain the wound so Derek could start to heal.

In the meantime, they were in this God abandoned country for a reason, and whilst he couldn't help his Alpha with that reason, he could give Derek medical data and knowledge which would help to determine the bigger picture for the Alpha. But blast it he needed more light in the medical tent.

Just as he was about to raise his voice and shout for one of his orderlies, his enhanced hearing picked up the heart beats of two approaching human women.

Good he wouldn't need to disturb his research, he could wait for them to enter the tent. They weren't heart beats that he recognised, although there was something intriguing about one of them but he didn't have the time to think about that now. He wasn't worried that he didn't recognise them, the camp was huge, the medical tent was placed smack in the centre as usual, not far from the senior staff accommodations but still protected by the rest of the camp which had been extended to include not only the General's 10th legion, but had been joined by the 4th, the 27th, and the 45th who were all now under his command for this operation. Scott had yet to register all the werewolves to his satisfaction, let alone all the humans, slave or servant, they had brought with them. There were even opportunistic tribes people trying to sell their wares to the Weres. Scott sniggered at his own joke, he would have to ambush his pack mates with that one, just to see the looks on their faces.

Derek would pretend to frown, growl at him unconvincingly, and turn away with a badly concealed smirk. His Alpha had a weakness for puns that Scott exploited ruthlessly.

Jackson would give him his patented "Who are you again plebeian?" look and walk away with disgust.

Boyd would stare at him in his usual silent way, Scott never even knew if he heard him half the time but Isaac, the adorable pup, would laugh out loud, blush and try to hide it, then continue chuckling all day on and off, still trying to hide his laughter.

That's when Jackson and Boyd would really react, they would smile fondly at the pup when they thought no-one was looking.

It amazed and amused Scott that the veritable unrelenting ice cold slayer of his pack's enemies could still be such a naïve and adorable pup. Isaac had been subjected to the brutality of the gladiatorial games by his greedy rapacious abusive father and was a lethal unemotional killer. But with his pack mates, he was gentle loving and submissive, so eager to please it was painful and they all in their own ways found things to pamper him with.

Scott made him laugh, he loved Scott's jokes and little pranks. The first time they had ever heard Isaac laugh after Derek had killed Isaac's father and given the pup the bite so that Derek had the legal right to rescue him, was when Scott had added blue dye to Jackson's wine at their evening meal, and when he had asked Jackson a question, Jackson's tongue had been bright vibrant blue. It was the fact that Isaac had laughed until he cried which had saved Scott from a beating. They had all stared in amazement at the normally silent young wolf until he had noticed their combined stares and ducked his head in sudden fear as he whispered. "Sorry"

Jackson had been readying a swing at Scott, but after staring intensely at Isaac, had confounded his pack mates by deliberately dropping the fist and poking his tongue out at Scott. "Good one McCall" he muttered as he tried to smile. Boyd's eyes opened wide and Derek stared from Jackson to the scared Isaac with comprehension. He deliberately began to laugh, knowing it would help Jackson to relax so that Isaac could relax again too.

Making Isaac laugh became one of Scott's favourite past times and if that involved humiliating, or upsetting Jackson well Scott thought Jackson should suck it up for the greater good.

Jackson was the adopted son of a rich and powerful senatorial family, and it was amazing how often he felt the need to clear his wardrobe, of the finest softest tunics and leather sandals, of warm and waterproof cloaks, which were all slightly too small for him, he would have to find a new tailor, the man was obviously incompetent and that colour just did not suit him but would look great on Isaac, and he must have worn the horrible things at least once but were no longer good enough for him. It was so much easier for Isaac to take them instead of Jackson having to put himself out by getting a servant to get rid of them, and did Isaac seriously think Jackson would allow anyone not his proper pack mate to wear his clothes? Isaac would be doing him a big favour taking them because he needed to make room for new clothes.

Then there were the new weapons which Boyd created using the blacksmiths forge. Crafted and shaped to Isaac's deadly hands, balanced for his swing, and delivered by Boyd with few words normally just "Try that one, see how it suits". If there were no weapons to hand over, Boyd would raid the cooks' supplies for sweetmeats, and watch in silent delight as Isaac's eyes would go wide at the flavours.

Derek, their Alpha, watched the boy and watched his pack. He allowed the boy to crawl into his tent, and curl up beside him when the nightmares became too much for the pup to handle. His strong arms would hold the young wolf while he whimpered through his fear, until the rest of the pack would crawl into the Alpha's tent and pile around their Alpha and their distressed pup.

The unfamiliar scent of the women entering his tent refocused his mind on the task at hand. For a second his wolf seemed to stir at something in the scents but he refused to give into curiosity now, he had spent too much time with his mind flitting to the past already. He needed to get this work done. He didn't raise his eyes, merely ordered calmly

"Bring me some more lamps please, then you may state your business"

He wasn't concerned that it was an emergency or they would have been running to his infirmary, instead of the leisurely stroll they had obviously enjoyed towards the large tent.

For a few seconds there was silence, and just as he was about to raise his head in irritation and demand their attention, he was answered by the unmistakeable sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard and the twang of an arrow being notched in a bow.

* * *

Notes: Just a quick note about "true" packs. All werewolves belong to family packs and artificial ranking social packs like army, merchants, senators, gladiators etc, a true pack is the small cohesive group which an Alpha forms for themselves once they hit the age of majority. Like their own guards but more than that. Close family members will always be important and take precedent if necessary but true packs are devoted to their Alpha and their pack mates. They will assist their Alpha's in any endeavour and normally the Alpha's mate comes from the true pack as they are the ones who are predisposed towards their Alpha, and their Alpha toward them. True pack mates are incapable of betraying each other. So hope that makes sense. Another cliff hanger and I haven't addressed the last one yet.. Evil or what. Well fear not gentle readers, I have another three chapters written and number 9 started. So sorry there has been a bit of a delay because I have been on holiday and it was fabulous and I would go again tomorrow but only if I had the internet ! I have used my holiday time wisely because there are chapters for other stories written too. Only problem had to use paper and pen, no internet or laptop access on hols but never mind. One chapter up today (because I have to!) and the rest after tomorrow, hopefully daily but it depends how quickly I can type. So hope you enjoy them because there is more action on the way... and I promise I haven't left Danny in danger for too long... I can't tell you how happy I am about all the kudos and subscribing and bookmarking, thank you thank you thank you x


	6. Chapter 6

He was answered by the unmistakeable sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard and the twang of an arrow being notched in a bow.

Scott moved with supernatural speed as he turned towards the intruders, his wolf smug with vicious satisfaction at the instinctive increase in their heartbeats which denoted their fear, his only weapon the bronze stylus he had been using on the wax tablet to work out his calculations until he was satisfied that he could transfer them to the more permanent expensive parchment scrolls Derek had generously funded so that Scott could build up his medical reference library for the benefit of the true pack and the legions under Derek's command. But his wolf didn't need a weapon, his wolf was going to rip these intruders apart with teeth and claw and roar his kill to the skies, then his wolf took one look at the two women warriors and … settled.  
Scott was so surprised that for precious seconds he didn't look at the women as he concentrated on the odd behaviour of his second soul. When he finally raised his eyes to the human warriors, standing there with their weapons drawn, absolute shock was his first sensation. The startling blue eyes of an angry beta wolf faded to soft surprised brown as he focused on the lithe dark haired human beauty before him. The same lithe dark haired beauty who had a silver arrow directed at his heart. The same heart that was thumping like a jack rabbit trying to inform its family of danger as Scott stared transfixed into the dangerous beauty's fierce dark eyes

Scott McCall, personal physician to Alpha General Derek Hale, ruthless fighter and warrior of the True Pack of Alpha General Derek Hale could have torn the two warrior women to shreds within seconds, but he stood there transfixed as lightning bolts thundered through his body and his second soul, his wolf joyously howled "mate" inside his head.  
His smile at his utterly oblivious mate was blinding and he took absolutely no notice of the other warrior wielding the beautifully crafted sword, a beautiful blonde young woman who wore the same reddish grey tunic and grey brigga as his mate, under their heavy woollen mantles, held together with a circular gold broach engraved with what seemed to be a stylised three circles that bore a startling resemblance to the Hale's family triskelion. His mind took in her presence but his senses and his heart were focused on his glorious mate so that he did not acknowledge the other warrior's words "Urgh, Allison, what do we do now?" which were whispered with aggressive confusion.

Scott stepped closer to the dark one, drawing her scent into his lungs, there was the tang of the oil she must use on her bow, the hiss of the silver arrows, the fire of her anger and determination, the quickening of confusion and the underlying sweetness of heather mixed with the tingle of rosemary. His eyes flashed blue again as each scent fragment flooded his system until they became her signature aroma. He would know her scent anywhere now and be able to follow it. Satisfaction changed his eye colour back to brown and his smile became almost bashful/ "Your name is Allison?" he asked with delight, haltingly in their language, shyness tripping his tongue rather than lack of knowledge. He had painstakingly and thoroughly learnt the language with several others whilst undertaking his medical training, as physicians were expected to understand as many languages as possible in order to aid their research.

"A beautiful name" he murmured as if to himself and he took another step forward until the deadly arrow was mere inches away from his unprotected chest.

"Allison" prompted the blonde warrior, the delicate woad markings on her neck coming into relief as she swallowed nervously, urgent concern on her face at the expression of stunned surprise on her captain's face.

Allison tore her fascinated gaze away from the handsome smiling werewolf, with the adorable puppy dog eyes who stood within her personal space in front of her, and frowned ferociously.

She refused to step back, knowing it would be a sign of weakness and scowled at him. How dare the impertinent wolf think he could toy with her, she ignored the tingling warmth in her belly which seemed to be caused by his proximity and she asked harshly "You are the Alpha General's healer?"

Scott reached a finger slowly across the space between them and gently stroked at the frown marring her brow, Allison's mouth dropped open and the blonde warrior drew in an outraged breath, until the stunned dark haired warrior shoved the silver arrow head directly into his chest, exactly over his heart.

"Do not dare to touch me wolf", she spat with anger.

Scott pouted at her, he literally pouted and gave a little whine of distress, then took exactly one step back from her.

His head cocked to one side as he continued to study her with utter fascination, "Yes I am a physician" he answered her earlier question.

"Good" was the swift response from the blonde as she stepped behind Scott. "Write the damned note Allison and let's get out of here before this stupid wolf tries to jump your bones here and now" the blonde warrior continued briskly. Scott swung his head and growled low in his throat at the disrespect to his mate, the blonde was unimpressed "Shut it furball, we need you alive for now" she smirked with satisfaction.

Any further reaction on Scott's part was aborted as soon as Allison opened her mouth to respond "By all the hell's Erica, did you bring a pen?" she spoke through gritted teeth as the blonde warrior began to shake her head with despair.

Scott never took his eyes from his gorgeous mate's face as he silently offered her the bronze stylus he still held in his hand.

She stared at him in disbelief, and then as if she couldn't help herself actually smiled at him as she took it from him.

As she looked down at the thin strip of bronze in her hand, she spoke briskly to her warrior.

"Erica, bind his hands in front of him with the wolfsbane treated rope, put his cloak on his shoulders and cover his arms, we mustn't look suspicious when we take him away. We will leave as soon as I finish the message to the Alpha General"

Scott looked at his mate in concern, as he allowed the blonde warrior to bind him. He felt the burn of the wolfs bane, it was bearable, he had suffered worse in his own experiments, but it still weakened him. He ignored it as he spoke once more to his destined mate

"I am lucky indeed to be captured by such a beautiful servant of the Lady Huntress", he didn't respond to the rude snort from the blonde warrior, he was entranced by the soft pink which flooded Allison's cheeks and he continued "But why do you need me glorious one, are you hurt?"

Suddenly any lingering fascination and softness were wiped from her delicate features and before him stood a strong and dangerous Alpha warrior.

"A Dear One of our tribe has been attacked by a wolf and you will heal his injuries or I will slice your living heart from your body and feed it to your Alpha General before I slice his head from his shoulders" she spat with rage and poorly disguised sorrow in equal measure. Scott frowned when he could also hear the guilt on her tongue. What did his beautiful mate have to feel guilty about?

Melissa of the McCall household watched with bafflement and then growing concern as her master and beloved foster son Scott was bundled out of the camp between two cloaked warriors. She had been on the way to deliver his supper, he might be the general's physician but he was still a growing boy as far as she was concerned and he sometimes forgot to eat while he was working unless she brought him snacks or a summons to the General's tent to eat. Now she watched as he left with the unknown warriors, they didn't look like warriors of the 10th . He was always escorted by one of his true pack mates. He was Derek Hale's physician and even though he was one of the best fighters in the camp, his position was too important for Derek to allow him to go anywhere without the protection of true pack.

Those warriors looked like humans, human women and there was no way that Scott would have left with them without telling anyone or receiving permission from his Alpha.

She pulled her worn but serviceable cloak tighter across her shoulders, it had been a gift from Scott when he had first made her part of his household bless the boy, and she was very fond of it. She refused to part with it despite his entreaties that he could afford to buy her a better one. She made up her mind and headed back to the Alpha General's tent. The food she had been carrying to Scott's tent dropping unheeded to the ground.

Deaton had been joined by the Alpha General in his vigil beside the boy who was unconscious on the couch.

Derek looked up at her entrance, she knew he would have been aware of her approach for some time, but he looked away uninterested as the Mage continued his study of the quiet oblivious omega.

Melissa plucked at her courage, this was for Scott, she could do this even if she was punished for her behaviour.

"My Lord" she stammered softly, the intimidating Wolf raised his head and eyebrows at her audacity at addressing him directly without first being spoken to. He watched her swallow nervously but continue stubbornly "My Lord, had Physician McCall been sent on a mission?" The Alpha's expression at her question was almost amusing, he looked thunderstruck, then his famous frown grew and she bared her neck submissively as she hurriedly continued

"He was being escorted out of camp by two strange humans and I know he is normally accompanied by one of his pack mates"

Her words ended in a rush as she stared determinedly at the ground beneath her feet, not having the courage to look at the General, just waiting for the punishment for having dared to speak directly to him. Oddly the silence grew, he didn't snarl his displeasure at her and he made no move towards her after he rose from his seat.

"Jackson" he roared and she jumped out of her skin.

His second in command came through the entrance at blurring speed "What?" he growled at his Alpha with irritation until he saw Derek's face and he stood to attention immediately

"Where is Scott?" Derek asked with menace. "In his tent I presume" Jackson responded with bewilderment

"Isaac or Boyd with him?" Jackson grew more confused as he answered "No Derek, they are patrolling with their assigned cohorts tonight"

"Well why is my physician leaving camp with two strange humans and no packmate?" Derek growled dangerously

Jackson paled, turned and fled through the entrance, Derek merely had time to turn to Melissa and to her surprise mutter a heartfelt thanks before he had returned carrying a wax tablet which he handed to the Alpha with a slight tremble in his hands, Jackson's face said he would tear Scott's kidnappers apart with his teeth and then turn his attentions to his packmate for not sounding the alarm and make him wish he had never been born, the stupid wolf.

Allison, Erica and Scott were half way to the Beacon Hills Settlement when they heard the enraged howl of an Alpha werewolf. Scott grinned, he knew that particular sound. His Alpha was angry, his Alpha was pissed, his Alpha was coming after him.

Scott knew he could have escaped from these warriors at any time even bound with the wolfs bane treated rope, but Allison was his mate and if a human had been bitten by a Were he needed to check it out.

Derek had forbidden the gift when they had invaded, there were to be no diplomatic incidents with angry families losing members to the Empire. Scott needed to find out what had happened, he had to see how badly injured the Omega or "Dear one" was. He had to remember to call the boy a "Dear One" in front of the humans. The tribes' peoples always addressed their Omegas as "Dear Ones" as if the word Omega itself was an invite to the gift, they considered it a wolf word even thought they had the same dynamics, Alpha, Beta and Omega in their own society.

If the poor bastard was an Omega, and he had been given the gift, he would become a prize to be fought to the death over in Werewolf society and by the Goddess, there were nearly a thousand wolves camped in the area even if only forty percent were Alphas. It was not unheard of for Betas to fight and win an Omega wolf. They might not be able to knot them but they could still sometimes sire pups on them in their rutting heats. Derek needed to deal with this as soon as possible, and Scott nearly sighed with relief as they entered the walled and fortified settlement of Beacon Hills.


	7. Chapter 7

Danny flung Stiles away from him with a strength he didn't know he possessed and screamed "Run" at him. He couldn't bear the thought that his beloved younger foster brother would be attacked by the snarling monster in front of them. Gods, Danny didn't want to die but he'd be damned to all the hells before he would let his Stiles die if he could save him. He just hoped that he would be re-incarnated as a bee so that he could so sting Stiles' idiot ass for this stunt.

Stiles the stubborn little shit had tried to pull him away until Danny had used his superior size and strength and backhanded him across his face in a frightened rage and hissed "Get help you fool "and then to Stiles' horrified disbelief had turned to run towards the monster instead of away from it.

Danny had lost his senses. He had gone fucking nuts. "No" Stiles had screamed, terror shuddering through his spine like a fast flowing snow swollen river and keeping him frozen to the spot.

But before he could move towards Danny, he had been grabbed from behind. Stiles had flailed in shock and he begged "Please, please help us" as he recognised that it was muscular human arms wound tightly around him and he was pulled against an unyielding torso, until a hard rough hand had clamped over his mouth and a harsh cruel voice hissed in his ear "Shut your mouth boy"

Stiles could barely breathe as he saw with horror the red eyed monster emerge from the shadows. It was a wolf, a dappled grey and black wolf, the biggest fucking wolf he had ever seen in his entire life, and Stiles could feel his heart stop as that thing made an impossible leap and landed on Danny, an almost human sadistic leer on its face as it buried its enormous jaws into Danny's side. For an eternity Stiles' world descended into disbelieving despairing silence as he watched his beautiful Danny, his beloved brother in all but name turn into a bloodied screaming chew toy for the snarling werewolf. Sound, scent and reality crashed through Stiles' body with the force of a mighty blow and suddenly he was struggling frantically against the brutish arms which held him still as he watched the forest floor become a darker shade in the moonlight as Danny's blood flooded out of his helpless body and pooled around them.

But to Stiles mind, his world had become red, he could see only red, the red of his brother's blood, the red of the gaping maw tearing into Danny, the red in those vicious terrifying eyes. He truly believed at that moment that he would never see any other colour again as his continuous screams were muffled against a calloused hard until another voice, a different voice, an utterly cold and indifferent voice spoke and forced Stiles to focus.

"Enough Deucalion, we don't want the Sheriff's son to die now do we? He is only to be given your blessed gift" the last two words were spat with contemptuous disgust and then the voice returned to its empty echoing inhuman darkness "Whilst we take this hysterical screaming little nuisance of a foster son to meet his gods face to face"

The purring pleasure in that voice as it finished speaking made Stiles want to vomit, despite the pain in his throat, scrapped raw by his screams. Then Stiles intelligent restless brain realised something important. Merciful Bel, the stupid bastards had mixed them up, they thought Danny was Stiles and Stiles was Danny. Stiles thanked the gods that he was gagged so that he couldn't inadvertently let them know their mistake, because at least Danny had a chance this way, if they knew he wasn't the Sheriff's son then he would be killed outright and Stiles would be the next munchy snack for the monster. Then something else began to pound at his brain cells, that voice, that cold voice, he knew it, he had heard it somewhere else, but before his brain could work it out, something hard and heavy slammed against his head and he knew no more as he plunged into darkness.

"Damn it Allison, you know what Stiles is like, he's bound to have persuaded Danny too. Danny has absolutely no will power when it comes to Stiles' wiles, we need to go after them." The graceful redhead was adamant in her conviction. The impeccably dressed heir to the throne of Beacon Hill, in her soft lilac silk tunic and matching brigga, with her dark leather boots was blocking the exit so that the Captain of the Sheriff's Hunters couldn't slip past her without acknowledging her words.

Allison looked at her best friend and sighed with irritation "Lydia, you know we have too much to do to be ready in time for this damn ceremony with the Weres. If our darling idiot Dear ones have gone for a moonlight toddle just to satisfy Stile's bloody curiosity, well they won't get passed my sentries and I will work their asses off in training for the next week in punishment. Then I will tell Sheriff John just to see Stiles face when they are both grounded for the next year and will be banned from the welcome ceremony and the negotiations"

Lydia tossed her hair back and glared at Allison coldly "If something happens to my boys Allison because you wouldn't listen to me, I will make your life a living hell, best friend or no best friend, I promise you" Lydia's frustration was obvious as she continued "It wasn't Stiles or Danny's fault that your Dad disappeared and I should have thought being the Sheriff's Captain actually meant protecting his family too"

Allison's normally calm brown eyes hardened at the words and she glared right back as she moved in such a way that Lydia felt threatened for a second. Allison was so not in the mood for Lydia's manipulative shit right now. " Well if you are that sure that they are in danger my lady Lydia, let us go and speak to the Sheriff so that we can alert all the Hunters and take appropriate action"

Allison smirked, she knew that Lydia would want to keep Stiles out of trouble for as long as possible.

Lydia narrowed her eyes at her best friend, flounced her hair back, spun on her heel and stormed off towards the exit as Allison closed her tired eyes, sighed and started to say "Lyds, I didn't…" but she was left speaking to thin air.  
She rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, trying to ignore the guilty feeling in her gut. Lydia was rarely wrong, no doubt Stiles was up to something but she couldn't spare the time for Stiles and Danny's antics now, and there was no way the two Dear ones would manage to slip passed her sentries. There was too much to worry about, too many odd occurrences and strange happenings including the three recent deaths which were being blamed on animal attacks. The humans had been savaged, there was no other word for it but it had happened before the Empire's legions had arrived or the Sheriff would have had Allison investigating them. It was all adding up to something ominous, and she couldn't afford to make any mistakes with regards to the damned formal visit by the Werewolves. They had to be prepared for as many contingencies as possible.

However she turned to her second in command who had been silently listening in the corner "Erica follow her and make sure she does nothing stupid or at least keep her relatively safe" She ordered with a weary sigh. She knew her best friend and future Sheriff would not leave it alone when it came to her family. Allison sometimes thought Lydia should have been born a Were, she had the same instinct to protect her family as the members of the infamous wolf true pack.

Lydia stormed off in a foul mood because of all three of her friends. She just knew that Stiles was up to something which meant Danny was involved too, and damn Allison for not listening to her. She should have let Allison call the Sheriff but she honestly didn't want the idiot boy to get into any more trouble with his Dad. They hadn't been getting along properly for some time and she didn't want to exacerbate it.  
If only Stiles would tell his father he didn't want to be offered in marriage to the douche-bag Ethan, Sheriff of that ridiculous backwater Lake-town, his father wouldn't force him, he didn't want him to go, but that nasty conniving Kate Argent, daughter to the Head of the Druids Gerard, and stupid Allison's stupid favourite Aunt, stupid best friend, had convinced Stiles it was his duty and what his father wanted.  
Merciful Bel that boy could be so gullible when it came to his loved ones. So of course the idiot had listened to that evil hag ( she wasn't more beautiful than Lydia, she didn't care what Erica had said, Lydia was the most beautiful woman in Beacon Hills and all those envious bitches knew it), instead of talking to his father and things had become more strained.

It galled Lydia that the smile on that vicious bitch Argent's face had grown wider and more satisfied at each sign of the father/son relationship faltering.

Of course it hadn't helped that the Alpha Sheriff had bedded that Beta bitch. John Stilinski was still a handsome and vigorous man and Lydia could admit that Kate might be beautiful in the way that deadly predators were beautiful. Lydia wanted to strangle the druidess with her own ugly silver torque and bury the bitch in her green speckled druid cloak where no one would ever find her body.

Stiles the fool had not wanted to hurt the relationship, or rather hurt his father, he wanted his father to be happy, was almost pathetically desperate for his father to be happy, it had been the overriding ambition of the kid's childhood since his mother had died, and of course Stiles had just played straight into that bitch's claws.  
Lydia decided the only time she was using the word bitch was for Kate Argent, in fact she was not going to acknowledge her by anything other than Bitch Argent from now on and she was going to have to do something about Bitch Argent herself, as the men were so stupid and blinded by that mediocre face and body. Not that Lydia didn't know how to use her own superior face and body to her own advantage, she just didn't prostitute herself like her unfavourite Argent female. She was the Sheriff's heir, an Alpha and the cleverest and most beautiful person in Beacon Hills, it was no contest.

It had broken her heart when she had realised that the only reason Stiles wasn't going to be Sheriff was because he was a Dear One, an Omega, because he was just as amazingly smart (though boy stupid because boys were just so stupid sometimes, well most of the time) and beautiful as she was, But it was unheard of that any other tribe would accept a Dear One as Sheriff. It would be seen as a sign of weakness and would lead to opportunist attacks and even war.

As far as Lydia was concerned, that rampant stupidity just reinforced exactly how stupid most people were, because her Stiles could be as ruthless, relentless, dedicated, courageous and creative as Lydia herself, sometimes more so because he had the ability to unite people around him which was a struggle for Lydia because she thought most people were just stupid. He would make an awesome leader but since that wasn't going to happen, he would make an even more awesome advisor and they would be dragging her cold dead body away from a giant green lizard man before she would lose him to some overblown, druid loving, weak chinned, weak kneed pox ridden sorry excuse for a Sheriff like Ethan.

Danny and Stiles were hers, her brothers and friends, and they were staying with her unless they really and truly fell in love and wanted something different. If it came down to it, to keep them safe she would bond with the boys herself. It might piss the pair of them off, especially as she knew she was not Danny's type and she also had her doubts about Stiles' inclinations although he had never said anything but at the very least the two Dear Ones would having a loving Alpha with her, and their children would be utterly beautiful and incredibly intelligent.

It took them twenty four hours to find Danny and there was still no sign of Stiles. Lydia had dragged Erica and as many able bodied "volunteers" she had set her eyes on as she had made preparations for the search, through the forest. It was the whine of one of the Sheriff's hunting hounds that drew them to the unconscious boy.

Lydia's blood turned to ice in her veins as she dismounted. There was a terrified silence as she stumbled over to Danny's body, followed by the Captain's rigid faced second in command Erica. Lydia's clinically logical brain could only repeat unuttered prayers "Sweet Mother, Merciful Mother, Merciful Bel, not Danny, please not Danny" until she dropped to her knees besides the blood covered unmoving figure( Merciful Bel, so much blood, please don't take him, please, please). She didn't hear the pitiful whimper which left her lips, Lydia Martin was never pitiful and she absolutely did not whimper. She didn't realise that she was holding her own breath hostage in her throat until she felt the weak pulse in the neck of the prone boy, and saw the shallow rise and fall of his mauled chest.

"He lives" She screamed in triumph, daring any god to try to take him away from her, and the sound shocked her people into motion as they made him comfortable to transport him back to the settlement.

Lydia refused to look at Allison when she had Danny carried to the Healing House. Lydia was ice, her rage cold and deadly. She couldn't think about Stiles, she couldn't, she had to focus on Danny. She had to make sure he lived, and then he could tell them where Stiles was. She had heard Allison tell Erica that the Sheriff was looking for Stiles but she couldn't speak to another stupid Argent bitch at the moment or she would strike her down, Captain of the Hunters or not, she would hurt Allison for this. She addressed her remarks to Erica.

"Find him a wolf healer" and then followed Danny into the healing house, ignoring Allison's desperate attempts to speak to her.

* * *

AN:

Thank you so much for all your kind reviews and favouriting and following. . XXX. I don't have a beta reader for this so your comments and concrit are always welcome.

Anyway a quick question. Would you lovely people like to read a one shot set in this universe about how Derek actually met and made Isaac true pack? I have been having a pesky image again, of a bloodied but victorious absurdly young Gladiator in a hot dusty arena saluting members of the imperial family, and I started to write it. What do you think?

Enjoy xx Hope to get Chapter 8 up this weekend, as long as this heat wave doesn't scramble any more of my brains!

Disclaimer: As always no infringement intended, only having fun.


	8. Chapter 8

The Sheriff was blank faced as he strode towards the healing house, but no one dared look for long into his eyes. The tribes people who were old enough to have lived through it, remembered the day his wife had died, remembered how his eyes had been mad with fear and grief, remembered how the only thing which had brought him back from his deadly berserker rage was the soft little body of his small son, as his tiny arms clung like a limpet to his father's neck whimpering for his Daddy. Now his people were afraid, the Sheriff's son had been taken or, they didn't even dare to whisper it, if he was dead, then the Sheriff's rage would be unstoppable.

It was only the news that Danny was still alive that had kept John Stilinski from losing it entirely. If Danny was alive then there was a chance that Stiles was too, he would not let himself believe otherwise, because if he did, he would wash the world with blood before someone managed to kill him. His son was alive, he would not lose him as well as his mother, and whoever had hurt his beloved foster son Danny would soon be feeding the hunger of the Sheriff's war axe. He needed to speak with Danny, he knew time was of the essence, and any clue Danny could give him was better than the big fat nothing he had at the moment.

He had thrust the reins of his black horse, the one Stiles had named Cruiser when the spindly legged foal had been born four years ago, at the stable boy and left his warriors to dismount, as his strides became faster and faster until he was running through the entrance of the healing house, his fivefold coloured mantle flowing behind him and be damned to his royal dignity.

His sharp grey eyes took in Lydia seated on a cot, holding Danny's head in her lap softly stroking his black hair, his erstwhile Captain of his elite warriors, the Hunters, and her second-in –command Erica, who was also the daughter of their healer mage Reyes, holding an unknown man, his hands bound between them. Erica had her sword at his throat, and Allison appeared to be arguing with Lydia and the two women were ignoring Erica's protesting father. His eyes were drawn back to the bound prisoner for a moment as he realised that he was a Empire Werewolf. What in the name of Arawn, God of war and vengeance, had his idiot group of teenagers done this time?

"Enough" he roared and they all stopped and stared at him like naughty children. He allowed the silence to linger for an uncomfortably long moment, he knew how good a weapon silence could be when he wanted answers. He fought his own impatience because he craved those answers like a fever in his blood, but he was still the Sheriff because he was damn good at it, not just because it was a hereditary title. He would have been ousted long ago if he hadn't proved his worth time and again.

"How's Danny?" he asked simply, with less volume but no less intensity. To his surprise, it was the Wolf that responded to him before the others did more than open their mouths "It looks like he has begun the transformation, you need to free me now to allow me to help him." His voice was calm and self assured in that Empire accent, but his eyes had flashed blue as he had uttered the word "transformation".

Reyes the healer protested angrily, "My lord Sheriff, I should be the one to help our Dear One, its not safe to trust him to a Wolf" but the Sheriff ignored the man as rage flooded his body. His Danny had been bitten by a wolf? "Did you do this to him?" he ground out, already reaching to his back where his war axe was tucked away, ready to take the Werewolf's head with it.

"The man Wolf looked shocked and appalled "I would never turn an omega" he burst out without thinking "Do you know the kind of trouble he is going to…" it seemed his words finally caught up with his brain and he blushed as he continued, looking like an abashed puppy.

"My Alpha forbade the gifting of the bite when we crossed your borders Sir. This attack was not committed by any of General Hale's wolves."

The Sheriff looked unimpressed, "There are no other Wolves in Beacon Hills" he stated calmly, his gaze fixed on the young Wolf's face "Did Danny do this to himself?"

The Wolf raised his chin and his eyes flashed blue again at the challenge, then he relaxed the tension in his shoulders and re-iterated with a slight growl which was quickly masked "It won't be one of General Hale's warriors, it has to be a rogue and my Alpha will deal with it Sir"

Stilinski's eyes hardened "Rogue or Hale Warrior boy, I will take its head, mount it on our sacred tree and use its fur for my winter mantle, do I make myself clear" and the vengeful growl in the Alpha Sheriff's voice was worthy of a full grown Alpha werewolf, although it did not come close to Derek's pissed off roar.

The Wolf nodded dutifully but his eyes had been drawn back to the wounded young man on the redheaded girl's lap. His moaning was becoming louder and more pain filled. Scott wriggled his arms restlessly and the sub vocal growl was back in his voice "You brought me here to help him, free me now" he grated impatiently.

The Sheriff nodded at Erica who sliced through the binding wolfs bane treated ropes with ease. He noted the way the young wolf tensed and relaxed his shoulders and the way he barely glanced at the mild burns on his wrists, which were already fading to unblemished skin, before he moved towards Danny and Lydia with an assured graceful lope.

The Sheriff looked at his grim faced Captain and murmured in a low voice even though he knew the wolf could hear him "You thought it wise to kidnap one of Hale's troops for this Allison?" She stood rigidly at attention under his gaze "Not one of his troops Sir, Hale's personal physician and true pack member, because Danny needs the best".  
The Sheriff's eyes widened for a moment with shock as he looked back at the Wolf kneeling beside Danny and Lydia "Derek Hale's own..." and he stopped as he gave an unwilling snort of surprised laughter. His hands came up to his temples as if he was in pain, and then he spoke ominously "So we need to prepare for a visit from the Alpha General now as well" A small pause and his tone was even darker as he continued "We will speak of this later Captain" and watched his normally unflappable head warrior flinch with something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

Lydia raised her eyes from Danny and begged softly "Tell me you have found him Sir?" she was pale with fatigue and worry and close to tears although she would deny that with her last breath.

The look of despair on her foster father's face had her closing her eyes with anguish, and crushing back those desperate tears "Sweet Mother Brigid, keep him safe, and grant us the boon of knowledge so that we can find him. Stiles, Stiles where are you?"

At her words, the werewolf stiffened and looked up at her from where he had been studying the wound on Danny's side.

"Stiles?" he queried softly and the silence which descended upon the room became deafening as he once more became the focus of every eye.

The Sheriff's war axe began to swing gently in his competent hands, Erica's sword was once more removed from its scabbard, but for Scott, the sharpest most threateningly vicious weapon in the room were the eyes of the young redheaded woman holding the injured boy's head.

"Do you know where he is?" she asked him bluntly and something in her tone made the werewolf feel truly threatened for the first time since he had entered this country.

Scott risked one glance around the room at the staring humans whilst he considered his words carefully, but he could see no reason to lie or withhold the truth.

"My pack mates and the Mage Deaton rescued him from a Druid sacrifice. He was overdosed on what ever drug they use to keep their victims quiet and is being looked after by the Mage and my nurse in the Alpha General's personal tent."

Scott ignored the stunned silence, they had asked him, he had told them the truth, he was more concerned with treating the transforming omega.

The murderous outrage in Lydia's face was reflected in the Sheriff's eyes. "Druidic sacrifice?" she hissed like a serpent, "Who would dare to take Stiles, a Dear One and royal son for sacrifice?"

"Stiles can tell us when we collect him, and then Captain, we go hunting for Druids and Wolves" the Sheriff's cold menacing voice echoed through the room, but the young Wolf hadn't finished, Scott spoke again, although this time, some of that calm confidence seemed to have deserted him, as though he had something to say that he knew was not going to be popular.

"About that, collecting him I mean, well um, he's kind of been claimed as Wolf Mate by my Alpha so…"

"And the hits just keep on coming" Erica muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Allison make sure our "Guest" has everything he needs to look after Danny properly" the Sheriff began in the precise structured way he adopted when he was beyond reason, beyond rage and looking at total mayhem and massacre.

"I am going to get my son" he simply repeated as he turned towards the exit .

Scott took one look at the Sheriff's face and wisely decided it was Derek's place to explain what Wolf Mate meant to his new father-in-law.

* * *

Notes: Shorter chapter this time, but hopefully just as enjoyable. The Chieftains or Kings of Celtic tribes had multi coloured cloaks, lesser but still nobles had two colours, the lowest class only had one colour. Cloaks were sometimes called Mantles and Tunics were called Leine, though don't think I have used that word yet. Was the horses name too cheesy? I did think about translating it into welsh but the words weren't quite right and I wanted a little nod at the vehicle from the show. The next chapter will feature Derek and Stiles, have abandoned them long enough I think... Disclaimer: absolutely no infringement intended


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles woke suddenly, his brain sharp and focused. It was a very strange, startling feeling. He drew a deep stuttering breath as he went from the dark comforting blankness to being aware of everything around him, in the smallest detail. The fog which had coated his thinking, his feelings, and his awareness suddenly disappeared, in the same way early morning mist surrendered to the blazing warmth of the summer sun. There was a clarity to his vision and hearing which was shocking.

His head pounded with pain, and his body felt like he had fallen beneath Cruiser's hooves, his father's black and white stallion, and been trampled by the magnificent beast on his way to his breakfast. Damn that horse liked his food, and Stiles had never forgotten seeing three of the most experienced of his father's Deputies and the young rookie stable lad being pulled behind the huge animal as he headed implacably towards the feeding trough, trumpeting his triumph with siren like whinnying.

Stiles shook his head, making the pounding worse. His damn scatter brain, what the hell? He needed to focus. Where the hell was he and what had happened? Shit, shit, shit, Danny, where was Danny? Despite the clarity of his thoughts, his mind for a few seconds didn't want to offer up any memories, as if it was protecting his recent return to sanity or at least Stiles' version of sanity.

He remember persuading Danny to go with him to the Preserve, he remembered teasing his foster brother as they tried to slink deeper and deeper into the woods past the town sentries for a sneak peak at the Empire's Wolves. He had only wanted to get one over on Lydia and his Dad because she was being insufferably regal and "I am the Sheriff's heir hear me roar"ish, just because she was a freaking Alpha, (which was unfair to Lyds because he knew she didn't care about that, she only cared if you were clever and she loved you) and his Dad wore that increasingly familiar expression of sad disappointment when he could be bothered to look at Stiles at all these days and the pair of them had been ignoring him because of the damn Werewolves invading, well to be fair, not just ignoring him, ignoring both Stiles and Danny as if they weren't important damn it. He refused to acknowledge that even his thoughts now sounded like the insufferable whines of a spoilt little brat. He wasn't a spoilt brat and he would stamp his feet and throw a tantrum at anyone who said differently, he wryly mocked himself.

Then the memories began leaking back into his brain and he forgot all about how hard done by he had felt because of Lydia and his Dad. For fuck sake those psychos had his Danny. They had hurt his Danny. Where was Danny? Sweet Merciful Bel please let him be alive, please, please let him be alive. The words were streaming out of his mouth in increasingly loud whimpers as he shot upright on the couch and then regretted it immediately. He thought his head was going to drop off with the pain.  
Sweet Lady, Merciful Bel, save Danny and then please let his head drop off, he didn't need his head, honestly, he could make do with his arms and his legs, he had toes and fingers didn't he? He so didn't need his head right now. Just take it away and bring it back when it was behaving itself. Oh Mother Brigid, the pain!

He must have continued to groan the words aloud because suddenly he was resting against a broad chest. What the freaking hell? Had he been so caught up in his own rambling head, he hadn't noticed anyone coming near to the couch. He hadn't noticed anything at all! What the seven hells was happening because his cheek was mashed against hard muscles and soft silk, and a hand was holding his traitorous head, fingers, strong fingers were soothing through his scalp, gently smoothing his braids whilst a water skin was held to his mouth and a deep husky vaguely familiar voice growled the empire word for water "aqua" at him as the dark leather water skin was tipped against his suddenly parched lips and poured into his mouth.  
Then there was blessed water sliding down his wickedly dry throat, blessed water soothing his wickedly dry throat, blessed water filling his mouth at too fast a rate and making him cough it back out all over his unknown cuddly cuddlicious cuddler, and that broad muscular comfortable enormous silk covered chest was now spattered with the naughty blessed water which had made the leap out of Stiles' mouth like a salmon heading back to its breeding grounds and the unimpressed rumbling growl which met Stiles' coughing apologetic "Whoops, sorry Dude".  
The growling turned into heavily accented words and Stiles had to concentrate for a second to understand the phrase "Don't call me Dude". Stiles ignored the words, more focused on the sound of his voice as that accent seemed to caress every nerve in his aching confused suddenly wanting body.

Stiles had yet to lift his head from that comfortable chest, seriously this guy could possible give his father a run for his money when it came to manly cuddles, and everyone knew that Stilinski cuddles were the most amazing in the whole world. In fact Stiles felt like a traitor to his ancestors, because cuddles were the Stilinski's thing, it was inconceivable that there could be anyone else out there who could come close to the Stilinski's level of magnificent mastery over the cuddle.

Merciful Bel, he was losing his freaking mind, his Danny was in serious trouble, like deep, deep shit serious trouble, he was in the werewolf camp, in a tent in the werewolf camp, he was in a freaking huge luxurious tent in the werewolf camp, surrounded by freaking huge warrior werewolves, one of whom who had turned into a freaking huge snarling beast and tried to gnaw his shoulder off as he lay unable to move or defend himself, his freaking head was killing him, his freaking body ached like he had been tortured by an angry god in one of the seven hells, and to top it freaking all he was being held captive in the arms of a growly freaking stranger with the freaking body of a god, a body that Stiles wanted to do unspeakably sexy things too, a stranger that he was suddenly too shy to want to look in the face because he was convinced that the images of those unspeakably sexy things were imprinted in his freaking red cheeks for the stranger to see. Seriously, was this his freaking life?

Suddenly he could hear Lydia's dulcet tones in his head scold him for "way too much use of the word freaking Stiles, because it loses its impact you idiot boy", and he groaned and burrowed closer to the hard muscles, catching himself only before he started to nuzzle as his grasshopper brain leapt back to the Stranger. He was definitely capitalizing this dude, a Stranger who had the most delicious scent, of the pungent aroma of the earth of the forest after autumn rainfall, rich and ripe, of silence, strength and a submerged sadness that made him want to whine in sympathy, of spicy addictive passion, of a fiery always burning anger and ice cold duty, a total sensory overload that made him desperately want to nuzzle closer and just lick at whatever skin was available to lick at, and made him feel like he was home, and made him want to crawl so close that he was inside the Stranger's very skin, and made him want to offer his neck and open his legs…. Fuck, fuck, fuck what devilish being had escaped from the seven hells to bewitch him like this?

Stiles pulled away from those strong arms and scrabbled backwards flailing in a full blown panic until he fell off the couch and landed on his ass with a heavy thud and a pitiful yelp. His startled soft eyes were more amber than brown as they travelled up from the strong bare feet in the open leather sandals, (freaky werewolves and their freaky immunity to the weather, all the sensible humans were wearing leather boots); to the firm muscular legs and up and up over the red silk tunic which came halfway down to those amazing thighs, (really, would it hurt if he just ran his hand over those amazing thighs for educational purposes only, as an experiment on the differences in texture from Wolf skin to human skin?) and no, he wasn't wishing that blasted tunic was shorter, sweet goddess he wasn't, really he wasn't.

Stiles jaw dropped open when he finally dragged his gaze away from the luscious muscular body standing there over him, and past those shoulders. There had to be a law against those kind of shoulders, they were exactly the kind of shoulders to hang on to whilst that body was above you and moving in a rhythmic…Stiles meeped as he realised that his appreciation of those shoulders was actually bordering on creepy and not just normal err boy meets wolf man, boy fancies wolf man lusty. (Seriously Stiles, his shoulders!) Until he finally managed to focus on the grim face of the most beautiful being he had ever met, and his poor heart stuttered painfully to stop as realisation hit, and then began thudding like Cruiser's hooves hitting his stride when his father was pursuing his duties as Sheriff.

Shit no, no, no his Alpha wasn't supposed to be a two souled wolf man in the Empire's army. His Alpha was supposed to be human, of the tribes, and living here so Stiles wouldn't be leaving his Dad and his loved ones. No NO NO, this so wasn't going to happen. It just wasn't possible so Stiles ignored it. He was very good at that, ignoring things that were too difficult to deal with, and letting time sort them out for him. This was just a little hiccup in the awesomeness of the Stiles Stilinski life experience. Merciful Bel would not be that cruel to her Omega son, his Alpha was not a roaming werewolf soldier with Hale Empire. No Nope No so not happening.

Stiles considered that face, he focused on that freaking handsome face, he wasn't drooling, he wasn't! It was the left over water from his little mishap earlier. The big guy must be one of the fair folk, there was no way that he was human, he had to be supernatural, (well duh Stiles Werewolf!) and right now the glorious grumpy being was staring him down and he could swear there was amusement in those amazing eyes and his lips twitched infinitesimally.

Stiles frowned suspiciously, those lips so did twitch, and the glorious grumpy gorgeous one was laughing at Stiles. Stiles peered even harder at that face. Hazel green eyes were eating him alive, consuming him with open fascination; the sculptured chin looked like it was from one of those stoney marbley statue thingys the damn werewolves loved to decorate with, or have littering public places where they could poke someone's eye out with their ridiculous out of proportion junk on display, and that mouth, that damn mouth which was pressed into a thin line as if it were a dangerous criminal to be restrained or it would run amok. Please Bel, let it run amok. Let it run amok heading in Stiles direction, in fact that mouth should be pressed against his own, not stuck there in lonely splendour in that impossibly beautiful face with those cheekbones.

Gawd look at those cheekbones, Stiles could literally shave his own chin with those cheekbones, because Stiles' only defence against that sexy stubble sprawled across that gorgeous face was to be clean shaven. Stiles had no talent for stubble, obviously this person, wolf, total god of sex had won awards for his stubble and was not just showing off his manly manliness but the best part, the most amazing wonderful best part were those super scowly eyebrows. They were soooo adorable. He was in love with those eyebrows, those eyebrows were his and he would fight anyone to the death for them. Damn those eyebrows, he wanted to stroke those eyebrows, they were alive and he was going to give them each a pet name and stroke those sweet furry little critters until they purred… He could just hear them purring right now, in fact he could hear some sort of loud rumbling sound, which seemed to be forcing its way up that rippling ripped chest, and out through the noble column of that utterly lickable throat until deep unrestrained laughter forced its way through those determined restrained lips.

Stiles flushed as red as that lucky, lucky, thrice blessed silk tunic who's whole existence was just to lovingly skim and caress the magnificent body in front of him. He ignored the hand which was reaching to help him up as he watched those criminally beautiful lips twitch, and those hazel green eyes gleam with amused satisfaction.

"I said all that aloud didn't I?" Stiles asked forlornly, closing his eyes before he saw the mockery he knew was going to be on that face.

"I am glad my man form pleases you Wolf Mate" the grumpy gorgeous giant almost purred at him with satisfaction in that adorable accent, with just the slightest hesitation over the words.

Gah, there was too much in that sentence to even think about, so Stiles made another executive decision and totally ignored it again. He could handle this so he asked cunningly as a distraction

"You speak my language?"  
"I understand much better than I speak little Wolf Mate but we will practice together" and the amused smug satisfaction in the voice made Stiles want to curl up into a ball of embarrassment.

Until his clever brain finally took control over his raging omega instinct which had been blocking his thoughts about Danny and turning him into an adoring airhead over some well-developed muscles and a pretty face, and he realised that he could totally use this, if this wolf understood him, and he seemed to like him enough, he could ask for his help to find and rescue Danny.

He looked up at the Werewolf who was staring intently down at him, suddenly remembering that looking directly into a wolf's eyes was a really dumb thing to do as it was taken as a challenge. Stiles refused to think about the fact that only wolf mates were permitted to do so and he had unwittingly been staring straight into those beautiful hazel eyes not so long ago without the wolf feeling the need to rend him limb from limb. Shit, shit, he was so not going there. Stiles gulped and forced himself to concentrate on Danny.  
"I'm Stiles, who are you" he rushed out, his tongue almost tripping over his words.

The Wolf man smiled at the evidence of his mate's curiosity, showing his teeth in delight. He had sensed the boy's discomfort at his own reaction to Derek. The boy's ramblings had amused, pleased and aroused him even before he had smelt his mate's own instinctive arousal but the boy was still recovering from his ordeal and despite the Wolf's desire to claim him now, the Man knew better. There were rituals and permissions and the trappings of civilisation to adhere to before he could claim and bond his mate, if only to make amends for his stupid attack on his own Wolf Mate, (because he truly didn't care if his Emperor's instructions were ignored and he went to war for the right to bond and claim his mate but he wanted his young mate to be happy and decimating his entire tribe would undoubtedly not make for a contented and relaxed home life).  
Therefore he would take any opportunity to enjoy being with the boy now.

He had heard his boy stir from his drug induced slumber whilst he had been studying the latest reports in an attempt to distract himself from his anger and worry over Scott.  
That damned message had merely stated that his physician had been taken in retaliation for the wolf attack on the Sheriff's foster son and if the son died then they would send his physician back to him, piece by piece. Derek's rage had known no bounds and he would have set out to rescue Scott and destroy those insane enough to have taken him, if he hadn't had to protect his wolf mate.

So Jackson had been despatched to fetch his true pack mate Scott. Derek knew Jackson was as angry and worried for the young physician's life as he was, and his second would ensure there would be swift and vicious retribution for the outrage against his Alpha and true pack. It was only when Boyd and Isaac had returned barely minutes after Jackson has departed, called back from their patrol and training exercise instinctively by the furious anguished sound of the howl from their Alpha when he had read that note, that Derek had allowed his professional expertise to override his personal feelings and reconsidered allowing Jackson a free hand with the retribution. He had send them after him with instructions about the use of diplomacy, and not leaving death and destruction behind. They were to return with Scott and the victim of the wolf attack as he would need to be monitored in the early stages of the gift and trained in how to deal with his transformation. When he had sent Boyd and Isaac on their way, Derek had realised that Deaton had disappeared once again upon one of his mysterious missions. At that precise moment in time, Derek hadn't cared, he had made sure that his little mate was comfortable even if still unconscious before he had moved towards his desk with the reports he needed to analyse. Now his Omega was awake, aware and so very tempting.

Holding him had appeased his twin souls, partial claiming and protection in one easy movement.  
The feeling of his mate against his body had soothed as much as it had aroused him. The boy was now partially scent marked by his Alpha, although his greedy wolf was clamouring for more but the man was patient.

"I am Hale" he offered simply, watching his little wolf mate with an unnerving gleam in his eyes. Stiles' mouth dropped open in shock

"Gen.. General Hale, Derek Hale, Alpha General, Imperial Family, that Hale" Stile's stuttered in disbelief.

His mouth formed a perfect circle and his eyes were impossibly wide. Derek's smile grew predatory and Stiles stomach clenched with nerves or excitement, he couldn't tell which one. Stiles struggled to throw off that instinctive reaction but he forced himself to think of Danny, to concentrate on Danny. Hale was the Alpha General, the big cheese, the main man, that was good right, he could help find Danny, he could contact his father the Sheriff. It was good, he could handle this, it was not freaking scary that he had caught the eye of the freaking nephew of the freaking Emperor of the freaking known universe, who was a werewolf to boot. He was not panicking, not in the slightest, no sir not Stiles, he was a panic free zone. Danny, Danny, Danny, Danny, think of Danny.

Stiles accepted the hand which was still held out in front of his face to help him up, he refused to acknowledge that searing tingle that shot up his arm when he held that hand and was pulled upright like he was a leaf floating on a gentle breeze, the wolf man, Derek had used no effort to bring him to his feet. Stiles hadn't realised just how weak his body was until his legs refused to hold him upright and he staggered against the rock holding him up.

He whimpered instinctively and suddenly he was floating again only this time, the Wolf used his other arm to scoop him up and put him gently back on to the couch.  
"Too much too soon little mate" he grumbled softly as he ensured that Stiles was stretched out properly on the couch. He began to move to fetch the water skin when he realised that his boy was still holding his hand, he turned back to him and tilted his head as he looked down at the shattered human.  
Sweat was beading his upper lip and glistening on his forehead. Derek simply couldn't resist, he dipped his head and licked the sweat from his brow and then turned his attention to Stiles upper lip. By the Gracious Goddess of the moon the boy was delicious, and when his little mate tilted his head up so his lips were directly beneath Derek's in such a simple instinctive but beautiful act of Omega submission to his Alpha and he could feel his boy's breath kiss the inside of his own mouth, it was only Derek's great strength of will which stopped him from claiming his Wolf Mate there and then.  
The boy was overwhelmed and weakened, after his ordeal, still dealing with the effects of the drug, dealing with his instinctive omega reactions, with his body's recognition of his Alpha, but he was still fighting the pull where it mattered, in his head and his heart. Derek was not going to settle for a partial bond based on sexual responses only, he had learnt his lesson well from the Argent bitch, Derek was going to have all of his mate, mind, body, heart and soul, and for that prize he could be as patient as he needed to be. However he couldn't deny the satisfaction which flooded him as he saw disappointment flare on his little mate's face as he straightened up again.

"Rest Stiles" he urged with a small smile before he began to turn away, until he realised that Stiles was still clutching the hand he had used to pull him up off his ass. He raised one eyebrow as he looked down at his mate.

Stiles was mortified, he had practically begged the Wolf to kiss him with that dick move and where the hell had that come from? What had he been thinking? Oh right, he hadn't been thinking, he had just been reacting like a freaking omega and that bastard wolf had turned him down. What was wrong with him? Even his own supposed Alpha didn't want to kiss him. Disappointment and bitterness left a sour taste in his mouth.

But for some reason, Stiles couldn't make himself let go of the wolf's hand. He had to think of Danny. He held onto the hand and looked up into that gorgeous face "Please" he asked, his voice suddenly obstructed by the fear crawling up from his belly. "Please" he tried again "My brother, my Danny, he was attacked when we were in the preserve, please Alpha Hale please help me to find him"

Before Derek could answer, there was the sound of a commotion outside the tent. The snorting and snuffling of fast ridden horses, the thud of booted feet hitting the ground. The voices of his guards were raised in argument, demanding the handover of weapons and low menacing growls began to get louder and louder.

He heard Deaton's voice ask for calm with uncharacteristic panic in his voice until finally a human Alpha voice roared in challenge

" Hale, I have come for my son"

* * *

AN:

So what did you think? Have I got Stiles' voice right? Did you like the interaction between Derek and Stiles?

Next chapter has Jackson hit Beacon Hills. Do Boyd and Isaac get there in time to reign in his need for bloodshed? And what's happening with Danny?

Just wanted to say again how great the reactions have been to this story. Thank you so much and please review xxx


	10. Chapter 10

***Warning: Second half of this chapter is "Mature". See notes at the end ****

The ominous warning growl of the Alpha Wolf man emitting from the tent had no visible effect on the fierce murderous rage of the determined Alpha father and ruler of Beacon Hills as he thrust aside the anxious panicking Mage and quickly and expertly despatched the two guard Wolves, using the shaft of his axe to viciously jab the huge wolf behind him in the stomach and groin as he swung the flat of the axe head up into the jaw of the Wolf man unlucky enough to try to bar his way to his son. The Werewolf crumpled and dropped to the hard earth with barely a noise unlike the high pitched swearing of the cringing fellow guard who had received the accurate backward strike at his vulnerable belly and balls.

The whole incident had barely broken the stride of the experienced warrior and he surged forward into the Alpha General's tent, fear for his beloved son and rage at the outrage enacted upon him nearly making him lose his grip on his sanity let alone the bubbling blood boiling fury trying to burst out of his flesh. The rotation of his axe in his strong grip began to speed up in preparation for the Sheriff's infamous mode of attack, he could split an enemy in two with his throwing axe with enough ferocity for it to pass through the first and embed itself into the enemy behind him or he could make the projectile weapon whisper through the air with the delicacy of a sweet chiming bell as it sliced the top knot from the head of an annoying courtier without bloodshed.

The Sheriff was an able ruler, fair but manipulatively ruthless on behalf of his people. Laws were to be obeyed. His people were thriving and protected, he would shed his own blood and give his life to serve his people. But his family, his family were sacrosanct. He would give his soul for his family, he would give up his destined rebirth, and he would willingly give up any chance at meeting his beloved again in the next life, in order to keep his family safe.  
Danger to his family threatened that cool incisive ruthless logic he used to assess the best course of action, danger gripped his mind with rage and his lungs craved the scent of his enemies' blood, until the whole muddled mess as well as his frantic brain came to a stop at the sight of his son alive and conscious.  
Time slowed and he could breathe through the aching pain that had been crushing his heart from the first moment he had heard his two boys were missing. Stiles was his heart, his reason to continue breathing whilst his soul burned with grief, Stiles was his gift from the gods, the child of his beloved wife, with her wicked delight in mischief, easy laughter and over protective nature.

Danny, kind popular clever Danny, had stolen a chunk of that same heart the day the small frightened tearful homesick Omega child had stood so bravely in front of a strange scowling Alpha warrior, (scowling because he wanted to use his axe on the parents who would, who could, use such a precious treasure as their own beautiful child for a political advantage) and then the small boy had smiled with loving kindness at an inquisitive energetic baby Stiles, and that was it, Danny had him wrapped round his little finger nearly as thoroughly as the little bundle of flesh, blood and lightening that was his own son.T he Sheriff would die for both his boys, and despite his relief at Danny's return, his very blood cried for vengeance for the outrage against the gentle boy and the uncertainty and fear for Stiles had been pushing him closer and closer to murderous rage.  
He now had a suitable target for his rage, how dare that Wolf man lay hands on his son? What had he done to him while he was helpless and unprotected? That Alpha dog was going to feel the loving deadly kiss of his Axe, but this time, the Sheriff wanted to feel the bite of his axe as it sunk into the yielding flesh of that Dog, he wanted to be close as he watched the life fade from the wretch's eyes and know that the Omega he had dared to touch was protected and avenged. He wanted to scream his war cry to the skies but he wouldn't, he didn't want to further traumatise his son.  
He made a beeline for the couch where the Omega was nestled against the standing Alpha Werewolf's chest.

"Only the fact that my warriors have been told not to harm you has saved your life my lord Sheriff" the Wolf man's words were soft but deadly.

"Only the fact that you have my son against your chest has stopped my axe from splitting it in half my lord Hale" was the equally soft and deadly response.

Stiles looked from one to the other, his initial burst of delight at the sound of his father's arrival disappearing in astonished disbelief, his mouth opening in shock. What in the seven hells were the pair of them up to? Then he rolled his expressive eyes, more hard amber now than the sweet limpid brown which had watched the Werewolf in faintly fearful fascination and he frowned, that pretty mouth down turned.

"Dad meet Derek, Derek meet my Dad" he sniped sarcastically. Stiles could feel his frustration grow as the two Alphas refused to look away from each other. Burning red eyes meeting and clashing for supremacy with ice cold blue. The frustration was blurring his mind and his eyes as if it was letting the drugs back in past the feeble grip on his conscious mind.

"Son, step away from the Wolf" the Sheriff intoned gently, his words a direct contrast to the bloodthirsty glare directed at the Wolf who tightened his grip on the Omega boy. The twin souled was equally gentle as he told his Wolf mate to stay where he was but the expression on his face should have incinerated the Sheriff on the spot.

Before Stiles could open his mouth, the darkly amused voice of the Mage who had staggered unnoticed through the entrance to the tent, blood dripping from a swollen lip and nose where the Sheriff had elbowed him in the face to get him out of the way, interrupted with unconcealed scorn.

"I seriously doubt you want to condemn Stiles to a barren fading life if you kill his destined Alpha My Lord Sheriff, and General Hale, how well do you think your wolf mate will take the death of his father?"

Stiles had been watching wide eyed in disbelief at the two posturing Alpha's, waiting for the tent to run red with blood until the Mage's words sunk into his terrified stupor.  
Stiles suddenly cackled with hysterical laughter and the sound was so shocking after the murderous tension that had built up that the two Alphas looked at him in surprise. He pulled away from the General and slid gingerly to his feet but leant against the couch as if he could not move any further. The frantic laughter turned to great gulping sobs and both Alphas moved into close proximity to offer their distressed Omega comfort, shooting deadly glares at each other.

Stiles reached for his parent and buried his head in his neck, breathing in the beloved scent of his Alpha father, a scent that had helped to calm and soothe him many, many times in his life, stuttering through his sobs "Danny, Danny's hurt Dad, my fault, my fault Danny's hurt. Wolf bit him, red eyes, in the woods …Druids, thought I was Danny, sacrifice, thought Danny was me. We have to find him" The words were disjointed and broken and made the Sheriff freeze with rage and horror. Hearing the words from his son's mouth curdled his stomach and he felt sick. But hearing his son speak also allowed him to force back his berserker rage until it was held in balance by his persona as the Ruler of Beacon Hill's once more. The Sheriff allowed his higher brain functions to return but underneath he was rage incarnate, he was now ruthless, manipulative and infinitely more dangerous. Someone would pay for this, pay dearly.

Derek's face became even darker and his eyes were crimson with fury as he listened to the boy's words. His Omega felt that he had betrayed his brother, when it was the bastard Druids and the rogue wolf who had attacked them. He would not allow the boy to continue with the delusion. He opened his mouth to speak but the boy's father beat him to it.

"Stiles, shh, its ok breath for me Stiles, Danny is home son, he's being looked after by General Hale's physician. This wasn't your fault, you and Danny were targeted, and they would have got to you both at some point even if you hadn't gone to the woods."

The General looked at the Sheriff with surprised appreciation. The Man was not stupid. Maybe he would allow him to live after all. The Mage had been partially correct, he could afford to be lenient for his little Wolf mate's sake, but that didn't mean that he couldn't maim the fool if he kept challenging him. He might not be able to rip the Sheriff's throat out with his teeth, well not in front of the Omega but he could teach him his place until the Sheriff showed him the proper respect.

But first they had a rogue Alpha Wolf man and those accursed Druids to deal with. Derek would relish the taste of the flesh that had sought to hurt his Wolf Mate.

Jackson was running as the Wolf, he was nearly as fast when he was Man but he needed to release some of the fear and rage that was consuming him as he thought of his pack mate in the grips of those fucking mage human warriors. If those bitches had hurt his true pack brother, there would be nothing left of their pitiful scrawny human hides by the time he finished with them. There would barely be enough left to feed the rats of this hellish place. Jackson might long to beat the crap out of McCall on a daily basis, sometimes even on an hourly basis when the little shit played his stupid tricks but Scott was true pack, he had courage and kindness and laughter and he was Wolf Brother. Jackson would avenge his death, or free him and then strangle the stupid little turd with his own intestines. His wolf howled with rage, fear and deadly intention as he raced through the forest of the Beacon Hill's preserve. He heard the answering howls of his pack brothers and savage joy coursed through his body at the knowledge that they followed him. Blood would run this night.  
In the dim recesses of his Man mind he knew his Alpha had despatched Isaac and Boyd to follow him, which meant there was also a message from his Alpha but the call of blood vengeance was too strong for his Wolf to stop now. While the Man liked nothing better than to fight with his pack brother when they were on two legs, the Wolf loved the naughty younger cub and loved to tease and play with his little brother wolf.

The normal sounds of the night forest had stopped after the Wolf howls, which pleased Jackson, even the small nocturnal animals recognised the terror that was travelling through their territory, and then the scent stopped him in his tracks. He smelt them, he smelt those kidnapping bitches, he swung his great head side to side to find the trail properly, realising it was the scent that was confusing, he recognised one of the bitches stink, but underneath it there was something different, something his instincts were telling him was dangerous, something to be wary of. He snorted with disdain and growled low in his throat. He wouldn't wait for his brothers, he would capture this bitch and find out where Scott was, before showing the puny human what dangerous meant. He began to trail the scent, his paws making no sound in the silent forest, his breathing quiet and contained as he stalked towards the site where the scent seemed to be greatly concentrated.

His wolf's eyes took in the natural hollow surrounded by sacred hazel and ash trees, and kneeling before a stone altar was a small figure. Jackson filled his lungs with the scent of the human, yes it was one of the bitches. He deliberately ignored the strange after taste in his mouth, and the warning from his Man brain.

He snarled long and low, he wanted the bitch to know what was coming for her and watched as the small figure stiffened and began to slowly turn around to face him. Strangely there was no fear scent. To his confused surprise there was only the scent of the same savage satisfaction that he himself felt when he had found the kneeling human.

Did the bitch seriously think she could handle a Were, not just any Were but the second in command to General Alpha Derek Hale? Time to teach the stupid human her first lesson, fear is always the proper response to a pissed off Wolf warrior breathing down your neck and about to chew on your flesh. Jackson drew back his head and roared his fury, then charged at the figure fully intending to have the bitch submit with her throat bared for him, and her belly vulnerable to his claws and jaws.

The flying leap at the altar ended when his body met the invisible barrier surrounding the small figure. He rebounded with such force that he was knocked to the ground and his head hit a rock.

Jackson came back to consciousness in self-defence, would that bloody female just give it a rest and stop talking at him? He opened his eyes, and he noticed that he had his human sight back so he must have transformed while unconscious. He could feel sticks and leaves and stones digging into his bare flesh and then he heard her exasperated pissed off voice clearly. "Oh for the love of Bel fur face wake up."

The clear commanding bell like tones resonated through his body and to his surprise his cock took notice also. There was a startled pause as if the female had just seen his reaction, and then those bell like sounds actually purred "Well it looks like someone is glad to see me " she drawled in a tone which made his cock stiffen even further. What the bloody hell had the witch done to him?

He was Jackson Whittemore, females had to work for his attention, to gain the pleasure of his interest, and there was always so many females. He knew he was a glorious specimen of a twin souled warrior, he was rich, he was famous as Alpha Hale's second and females drooled when they saw him. He worked hard to maintain his physique. To gain his interest, Females had to be something special, but even then they were just a rut to ease his Wolf's horniness. Fucking Females definitely did not immobilise him, call him names and then mock his manhood.

He growled as he opened his eyes to his tormentor and his eyes flashed blue with the recognition of Wolf Mate before he furiously denied the possibility that the small but beautifully proportioned smirking redheaded Goddess before him was anything of the sort.

The redheaded daughter of Heaven tilted her head towards him, as her eyes skimmed his body. She had shed the cloak and now her scent was not overlaid with that of one of the kidnapping warrior bitches. Now he could scent the danger she radiated, the power and the hint of rose petal and yew tree.  
She appeared totally unconcerned about his nudity but Jackson could smell her interest and suddenly he was the one smirking with satisfaction. "I think you like what you see also my sweet little bitch" he drawled lazily and smirked even wider at the affront on her face at his words. She drew herself up to her full height and he wanted to laugh at her trying to make herself seem taller until her coldly mocking words hit his ears and lodged in his throat.

"I am neither yours, nor sweet but I am definitely a bitch my precious puppy. Be grateful that you are not the Wolf I was waiting for because I fully intend slicing the red eyed bastard's head from his body for his assault upon my family, after I have got the information I need from the vermin so that I know who is behind this attack" It was the tone in her voice as well as the content of her words which finally made him realise that the female in front of him was Alpha. Human Alpha but still Alpha. He began to tilt his neck in offering before he forced himself to stop. She was Alpha but he was Derek's. He would not offer his throat to another Alpha. Especially not a human female. She was not his fucking Wolf Mate, he was Jackson Whittemore, and son of a Senator, he was a Warrior who's only superior in Battle was his True Pack Alpha, he was acclaimed for his determination to win at all costs and his ferocity at battle, he was beautiful and he had only ever submitted to Derek. When he finally found his Wolf Mate, said Wolf mate would submit to him, his Wolf mate was not a fucking Alpha.

His wolf disagreed violently and snarled in his head "Ours, submit fool" but Jackson ignored it. He had his proper Alpha's orders, Derek was the only Alpha he would ever submit to (except for the Emperor of course but that was law rather than choice) and he would rescue Scott or die trying.

The small Alpha watched him with amusement, her bright eyes skimming his muscular toned body with keen appreciation, and her glances lingered on his own stand out appreciation as she delicately ran her pink tongue over her bottom lip. His stubbornness began to leak from his body just as his traitorous cock began to leak in front of her.

"Such a pretty puppy" she murmured in that low voice that pushed the blood down into his cock until it was literally pulsing to the beat of her voice. "Now what shall I do with you hmmm?" and Jackson bit his tongue to stop the moan from escaping his lips, but he couldn't stop his body preening itself in front of her. He felt feverish, hot, so bloody hot. His body undulated under her unrelenting gaze. He drew himself to his full height as he pushed out his chest, he flexed the muscles of his arms so that she could see his strength, could see that he was worthy of her, he opened his legs wider so that her view was unobscured, so his Wolf Mate could see how he would worship her and gift her with pups. Beautiful Blood Moon, he was so hard and his balls ached. She began to walk around him, as if she was surveying her property confined in the wolfs bane circle she had created whilst he had been lying unaware on the ground and he could hear the delight in her voice as she gently mocked "My puppy, look at you, so, so pretty, I could eat you all up. That ass, I could skim stones off that gorgeous ass."

By the gracious moon goddess, her voice, her bloody voice should be illegal. She shouldn't be allowed to talk. Her voice did things to his body and mind that he had never felt before.  
He couldn't even distract himself enough to growl at her continued use of the word Puppy. He would be her puppy if she would only come closer so that he could touch. He moaned helplessly and his whole body began to tremble with the need for her touch. She had to claim him, she was his Wolf Mate.

She finally came to a stop in front of him, put her hand up to the barrier and smiled ruefully "Forgive me Gorgeous but I can't claim you now. It's not the right time for us, My Lady Bel has gifted me with visions of our bonding and until that time we both have other matters to attend to. But soon my pretty puppy soon"

Jackson howled his desperation, and threw himself at the barrier repeatedly, the burns from the wolfs bane not fading as quickly as they should because he didn't allow them time to heal until the redheaded Alpha scolded sharply "Enough Puppy, stand still, I won't have you hurt yourself"

To his own shock, Jackson obeyed the order, and then watched as her hands began a strangely graceful but hypnotic movement. Suddenly there was a hole in the barrier that he could fit his head through, but when he tried to use his hands it was an impenetrable as ever.

The Alpha chuckled "Sweet Puppy the barrier will allow you to bend your head to mine" and when he did so, her mouth and hands took his face in the kind of possessive kiss that was normally reserved for Wolves.

Her tongue danced with his and the taste of her burned its way into his heart. She was his, Alpha be damned and he began to buck against the barrier, his mate was so close and he was so hard. He needed, he craved, and he couldn't stop. She nipped his tongue in punishment, as she whispered into his mouth "You'll hurt yourself"

"Don't care, want you, want you, want you" the desperate Were growled into her mouth, until to his scorching disbelief he felt her hand on his cock. And he whimpered his gratitude. Again his body was not able to cross the barrier but her slim hand stroked him firmly and it was barely moments before his release had his mouth slackening against hers and his eyes rolling back into his head. When he came to his senses he was surprised at the genuine affection in her face, and as he tried to ask her to free him, she kissed his lips gently before blowing dust into his face and whispering "Sleep well my pretty puppy, your friends are nearly here and you need to listen to them before you continue your mission"

* * *

**AN**:

Second part of this is much more "Mature" than any other chapter to date (Smutty, definitely smutty peeps ), there is also an element of non con because Jackson is actually restrained behind a wolf's bane circle but its still consensual ( well as much as a biological imperative can be)

No infringement intended.

Hope you are enjoying the story and please feel free to comment. Thank you all so much for the favouriting and following xxx


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